


That's a Goalie Thing

by cmac0824



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-08-10 00:10:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 43,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16459718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmac0824/pseuds/cmac0824
Summary: Lexa Woods and Clarke Griffin are goalkeepers on the same club field hockey team. A friendship blossoms into more between the two. Non-linear storytelling. Explicit for inevitable smut in later chapters.





	1. I Wasn't Ignoring You

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all!
> 
> I'm a fanfic writing newbie here, but had an idea and sat down to write this first chapter, mostly in one night. Sorry in advance for any errors, hopefully this isn't unintelligible. Would love to hear any and all feedback!
> 
> Cheers,  
> Cmac

**March, 2008**

I stared out the car window, fogging up the glass as I watched the chilly morning sun peak over the tops of the trees, just starting to bud with the spring. I stifled a yawn and glanced nervously over at my dad in the driver’s seat, hoping he hadn’t caught that and knowing he would comment if he had.

“You ready to go, Alexandria?” he asked with that edge in his voice that always upped my anxiety. He wasn’t even looking my way, but he seemed to always sense my nerves. Where did that come from anyways? We barely spent time together anymore. When I wasn’t at school or shut up in my room studying, I was at practice. Not that he was ever home anyways. He travelled a lot for work and worked late when he wasn’t travelling. I couldn’t remember the last time we had spent time together that wasn’t interrupted by his phone ringing. How was it that he was still so attuned to my mannerisms like that? I shook my head to clear the thoughts.

“I’m always ready,” I lied quickly. It was easier to lie to him about this. He was always so composed and expected the same from me. I realized my fingers were fidgeting with the dark hair at the end of my braid, giving me away. I folded my hands tightly in my lap hoping he wouldn’t catch me in the lie.  Was it really a lie, though? I was always ready, at least in the technical sense. My enormous bag of goalkeeper gear was stinking up the trunk of his immaculate, black sedan. I had a good breakfast before we left and had enough water and food with me to last the day. I had certainly been practicing often and hard enough. It was the mental part that was always tricky.  And so much of it seemed to hinge on the mental part.  Was I mentally ready? I never had as much control over that as I would like. I was serious about being good in my sport, maybe to a fault. But I wanted to play in college and recruiting was a big deal. You had to be good.  Really good. This wasn’t high school.  This wasn’t rec league. This was the real stuff. It wasn’t enough to do your best, you had to BE the best. I put a lot of pressure on myself, but I had to. That was how it worked. I glanced over at my Dad. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who put that pressure on.

“I’m going to listen to some music, okay?” I asked, but I was already putting my headphones in my ears. We weren’t really having a conversation anyways, and I didn’t expect him to suddenly want to become chatty with me. I scrolled through the songs on my green iPod Nano and pressed play. The smooth guitar sounds of Jack Johnson rang in my ears and I looked back out the passenger window, trying to slow my thoughts. It wasn’t pump-up music, certainly, but it did at least help me clear my brain.  Before I knew it we were pulling onto Polis University campus, my dad somehow managing to find the field right away despite the fact that he had never dropped me off before.

I jumped out of the car to grab my bulky gear bag, careful not to bang the pristine paint job as I maneuvered it out of the trunk. He hadn’t gotten out of the car.  As I closed the trunk and mentally made sure I had everything, he rolled down the passenger window and leaned down so he could make eye contact with me.  “Work hard,” was all he said, one eyebrow cocked like it was a challenge, more than an instruction. It was never “good luck” from him. Luck was for lesser mortals and rec league sports, I guess.

“Yeah,” I said, distractedly, “I’ll… get a ride home from Anya after… since you’re not staying.” He hadn’t communicated that this was a drop-off situation before he drove me here. Not that I really thought that he would stay. He wasn’t the type to break out a folding chair along the fence and cheer with the other parents. He probably only drove me because he had a meeting this side of town or something. I looked up at him again, realizing my thoughts were racing. He nodded once, rolling the window shut and pulling out of the parking spot. I stood there for half a second, watching the car pull away, and mumbled “Okay, bye,” under my breath. I turned up the volume on my iPod and turned around to face the field. Players and coaches were already filtering through the gates onto the fields, parents setting up camp chairs around the perimeter.  I scanned the crowd for the familiar faces and navy jerseys of my teammates.  I spotted Coach Indra first.  Despite being a smaller woman, Indra had an intense energy about her that made her stand out, even from across the field.  She could be intimidating, but she had a tactical mind and a tough love approach that made her a talented coach. I respected her and wanted to impress her, even if she did scare me a little bit.

I rolled my bag behind me as I made my way over to the corner where she stood, recognizing other players as I got closer. I had only been playing with the club for a few months, and Indra tended to switch up the teams from tournament to tournament, so I recognized faces more than I knew anyone’s name. The exception, of course, was Anya. Although two years older than me, Anya was my closest friend. She grew up down the street and was like the older sister I never had. She was the one who convinced me to try out for field hockey at Trikru High the summer before my freshman year began. Since being on the same team, she had taken me under her wing even more, convincing me this year that I should join her club team, the TonDC Warriors. Because of the age difference, Anya and I rarely played on the same team in tournaments, but she was generally my ride to and from practices and tournaments. It didn’t look like she was here yet. I got a little nervous she might not be coming today, but Anya rarely missed out on a tournament. Maybe she was just late.

As I got closer to the team, Indra spotted me and handed me a schedule as I yanked out my headphones. “You’re on team B, Woods. You play in the first game, so get dressed and warmed up. Griffin is splitting time with you in goal,” Indra inclined her head towards a blonde I recognized, though I didn’t know her name.

The girl was standing in the corner, leaning on her bag of gear and talking to a small group around her. She looked up and her blue eyes caught mine, instantly giving me butterflies. She flashed me a crooked smile and I smiled nervously back, bending down to grab my bag and to hide my flushed cheeks. I shuffled over to the girl, fiddling with my iPod. I figured I would just ask if she wanted to warm up together when she was done chatting with the group of friends. As I approached I looked up and realized that the girl had been staring at me while she continued to talk to her friends. Before I could say anything the girl motioned me over.

“You’re Woods, right? Alexandria?” the girl asked.

I grimaced slightly at my full name—only my father called me Alexandria. “Lexa,” I corrected, quickly adding, “And you’re Griffin?”

The girl’s blue eyes crinkled as she chuckled, “Clarke.”

“Clarke,” I repeated, nodding, and noticed the girl bite her bottom lip as I said her name. I raised my eyebrows and smirked a little at this as I stuck out my hand. “Nice to meet you. I was going to get dressed and start warming up, if you wanted to join me?”

She shook my hand, her grasp warm and firm, that crooked smile back across her face. “Yeah, sure, gimme a second,” she nodded.

Still holding my hand, she pulled me over to the group that she had been chatting with earlier.

“Guys, this is Lexa,” she announced, introducing me to the group. “Lexa, this is Harper,” she pointed out a thin, smiling blonde with her hair pulled into a neat braid. “Raven,” she continued, nodding to a Latina girl with her field hockey stick thrown over her shoulders and a brace on her left knee. “And Octavia,” the last girl in the group nodded and stared at me intensely, her dark hair pulled into a bun on top of her head.

I went around to shake everyone’s hand, repeating their names as I did.

Raven laughed, “Why so formal, Woods?”

I frowned slightly. Socializing with people my age was not my strong suit and I always defaulted to my “dinner party” manners when I was uncomfortable.

“I think it’s nice,” Clarke quipped, making me blush slightly, “besides, Lexa here doesn’t know you’re not a proper lady, Reyes.  She’s just being courteous. We’ve got to go get warmed up, though, so see you kids later. C’mon, Lexa.”

Clarke dragged her bag over towards where I had left mine, and I turned to follow her. We pulled on our gear in silence as I debated internally whether to thank her for defending my awkwardness to Raven. I finished as she was still adjusting her straps on her chest guard, reaching behind her awkwardly to try and tighten it. I watched her struggle for a second, then offered “You need some help with those?”

“Ugh, yeah that’d be great,” Clarke smiled, turning her back to me.

I put down my stick and hand pad and walked over to the girl. I rested my hands on her shoulders and was surprised to find my heart was pounding. “Err… tighter or looser?” I stammered, realizing I had been standing there silently for a beat too long.

“Tighter on the right strap,” she instructed, checking her watch and seemingly oblivious to my discomfort.

I pulled the strap tight, the backs of my fingers brushing against the smooth skin of her shoulder. She shivered a little and I pulled my hands away quickly. “Sorry, my hands are always cold. That better?” I asked, my heart still fluttering in my chest.

She turned to face me and, staring into my eyes, smiled “Much better. We better get going though, or Indra is going to have a fit.”

She broke the eye contact then and turned, leaving me shaking my head to clear it.

==========================================================================================

There was usually a generous amount of downtime during tournaments like this and, to my surprise, Clarke asked if she could sit with me during the first break.

“Don’t you want to hang out with your friends?” I asked, nodding over at the trio of field players Clarke had introduced me to earlier. Harper nudged Raven in the ribs when I looked over and all three of them quickly looked away. “They seem concerned you’re over here,” I chuckled.

Clarke shrugged. “I can see them any old time. Plus I thought that you hated me from all our practices, but you actually seem cool, and I want to get to know you.”

“You thought I hated you?” I spluttered, surprised. “What gave you that idea?”

The blonde laughed, dropping her bag and sitting down next to me. “You always seemed so serious at practice. I tried to joke with you and you kind of brushed it off. Not exactly waving the flags of friendship there, Lexa.” We both still had our lower pads on and she nudged my kicker with hers.

I sighed and bit my lip. “I’m not exactly… chatty… with anyone, Clarke. And I take practice seriously. I wasn’t ignoring you, I just… I get nervous and then I get quiet. I’m sorry that I gave you that impression, though. I would like to be friends.”

“Perfect,” she chuckled, “and, for the record, I get taking field hockey seriously. But you have to have some fun too. Otherwise it’s all pressure and no release, right?”

I glanced sideways at her, thinking about the leaden weight that was always on my shoulders. About how much that affected my mental game. Maybe a little fun couldn’t hurt, right?

“I suppose so,” I responded.

Clarke rolled her eyes and bumped my kicker again. She was much more physically affectionate than I was used to in my friendships. I bumped hers back, smiling softly.

“See, jokes are good! So tell me about yourself, Lexa.”

I fiddled with the hair at the end of my braid again. “I don’t know, Clarke, what do you want to know?”

“Are you always nervous?” Clarke asked quickly, that mischievous smile back on her face.

I stopped playing with the hair at the end of my braid, suspicious that she could read into my mannerisms in the same uncanny way my father could. “No, of course not, Clarke. Why?”

“Because you said when you get nervous you get quiet. It seems like you’re always quiet.”

“Mockery is not the product of a strong mind, Clarke.” I said, crossing my arms over my chest defensively.

“Jeez, okay. You want to know why I want to get to know you, Lexa? Because you seem interesting; like there’s more to you that you don’t show people very easily. We’ve both got three more years of this together before college, and we’re going to be seeing a lot of one another. Plus, out of all the goalies we’ve been practicing with, you seemed like the coolest person there. But if you're just humoring me and don't actually want to be friends, I get it, I’ll go.” Clarke huffed, and went to get up.

I grabbed her hand, without thinking. Just wanting to stop her from storming off. “I’m sorry, Clarke,” I said earnestly, “I do want that. I would really like to be friends. Stay, please.”

Clarke sat back down and I gently let go of her hand, my heart hammering. I started to tell her about myself. About Anya, how she got me into field hockey and was like the older sister that I always wanted. About my high school teammates, the other goalies I shared time with during the fall. About how I loved my English class because I loved to read and write because it took you into another world. Clarke was easy to talk to, once I started. She was funny and joked, and seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. We talked as we got warmed up for our next game and, when we had another break, she followed me back to my bag to sit with me again.

“So, what’s on your iPod?” Clarke asked, settling down next to me, closer than I would usually have been comfortable with.

I pulled the small green trinket from my bag and fiddled with the headphones. It was easy to talk to Clarke, but the contents of my iPod felt deeply personal, somehow. I unwrapped the headphones and handed her one of the earbuds anyways. She stuck it into her ear and I placed the other into mine, forcing us to lean even closer together. Our shoulders were resting against each other as I clicked to the menu screen, scrolled to a recent playlist, and hit play, turning up the volume just enough so we could both hear it but still talk. We listened to a few mellow songs, but I could feel my pulse racing; I kept looking at Clarke to see what she thought.

Finally she pulled out her headphone and turned to me. “You like low blood pressure music,” she chuckled, her smile crinkling her blue eyes that seemed incredibly close at this moment.

“What?” I laughed at the absurdity of her comment. “What does that even mean?”

She shrugged, still smiling, and put the headphone back into her ear. “I like it. What else you got?”

We sat there connected by headphones and I handed over my iPod. She grinned at me as she scrolled through my playlists, picking out songs here and there, asking me about bands or songs she recognized, and making jokes about those she didn’t know. Clarke was funny— I couldn’t stop laughing at her jokes—but she was the kind of funny that invited me to joke with her. Judging by her laughter, she appreciated my brand of offbeat sarcasm as much as I appreciated her humor.

It was such an unexpected easiness between us and it made the time between games fly by.  So much so, that it was just before our last game that I realized I hadn’t seen Anya all day. My stomach sunk a little as I looked around and realize that she must not have come to the tournament at all. She certainly would’ve come over and said hi, Clarke or no Clarke. I grabbed my red enV2 phone and clicked out a quick message to her.

“What’s up?” Clarke asked, walking over after talking to her parents. They had shown up for the last game, her two younger brothers in tow. The perfect picture of a supportive, involved family, her dad was throwing a football with them as her mom sat in a camp chair, watching.

“I didn’t realize that Anya wasn’t here today until just now. I was going to ask her for a ride home,” I tried to sound nonchalant, but I was fidgeting with my phone. “I’ll figure something out though,” I added on quickly, because Clarke seemed like she was about to offer help and that seemed like a lot to ask of someone I just met.

“Well… how’d you get here?” Clarke asked, curiously.

I knew she was trying to be helpful, not nosy, but family was always a touchy subject for me and I had to bite my tongue not to snap at her. Especially when, from first glance, it seemed like Clarke’s family was picture-perfect.

I avoided Clarke’s eyes and mumbled, “My dad. He just dropped me off though. He… he couldn’t stay. I can call him and see if he can come pick me up though. Maybe he’s done with… with his thing.” I kept my eyes down and dialed my dad’s number, turning to walk away as it rang. Straight to voicemail. Perfect.

“Hello, father. It’s Alexandria. I was just calling to see if you would be able to pick me up after I’m done here. Anya won’t be able to take me home. I should be finished around 4 o’clock. We have our next game in 20 minutes, so if I don’t answer, that’s why. If you can’t come, that’s fine. I’ll find a ride. Thank you.”

Clarke was near enough that she overheard the voicemail and she bit her bottom lip, as if contemplating something. “I thought it was Lexa?” she joked, her eyes searching.

I sighed. “It is to everybody but my father,” I responded.

“I can take you home, Lexa.” Clarke blurted out. “If your dad can’t take you, I mean,” she added quickly, her cheeks turning slightly pink.

“Clarke, I appreciate that, but it’s far. And it’s probably out of your way. Don’t you live around here? It would be really late by the time you got back and you’ve probably got better plans for a Saturday night than driving me around.” I rambled. I was touched by her kindness, but my independent streak made it difficult for me to accept help like that from anyone. Let alone someone I just met.

“Well…” Clarke proposed, “How about we stop at my house so I can grab some things, I’ll drive you home, and then we hang out all night? Those sound like pretty good Saturday night plans to me.”

She flashed me that smile that crinkled the corners of those blue eyes again and before I knew it I was putting my gear into the back of Clarke’s blue pickup truck.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. The Goalie Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa and Clarke go to the National Hockey Festival. Their friends tell them they have that 'goalie thing' and they decide to embrace it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the kudos and follows on this so far! Like I said, I would love to hear thoughts and suggestions if you have them!

**November 2008**

“What do you want? Burritos? I saw a Chipotle at the other end of the terminal.”

“Have I ever turned down a burrito, Lexa?”

I rolled my eyes bumping my shoulder into the blonde standing next to me.

“Come on, let’s see if anybody else wants to go too,” I chuckled.

Clarke saluted playfully, “Lead the way, _Commander_ ,”

A familiar feeling flared in the pit of my stomach at her words and I turned away, pretending to be orienting myself, but really trying to hide my cheeks which I knew had flushed. Although we hadn’t yet known each other for a year, it seemed like Clarke and I already had a lot of nicknames and inside jokes. The rapport we had developed in such a short time was unfamiliar and it sometimes scared me. I was used to being in control, only deliberately letting people behind my carefully constructed walls. I hadn’t been this open with someone since… well, it had been a long time. I hadn’t felt that now-familiar warmth in that same amount of time either. Recently it seemed to flare up every time Clarke called me _Commander_ , or touched my hand, or laughed, or… 

“Hey, you in there?” Clarke asked, her voice soft, putting her hand on my shoulder and looking into my eyes with gentle concern.

“Yeah, sorry. Let’s go,” I mumbled, embarrassed I had gotten lost in my thoughts and at the fact that the kindness in her eyes made me melt a little. I looked away and she grabbed the hood of my sweatshirt, pulling it up over my head gently, the backs of her thumbs brushing my burning cheeks as she did. She pulled the hood so I had to look at her and our proximity gave me the sudden urge to close that distance. But we were just friends and I was pretty sure she wasn’t gay and even if she was there was no way that she liked me like that. So instead I stood there awkwardly with my hands at my sides, pulled into my sweatshirt sleeves, and stammered “So… uh… what was our gate again?”

“Some navigator you are,” Clarke laughed, pulling the top of my hood down over my eyes, “Let me be your guide.”

She grabbed my hand and I laughed nervously as she led me towards the gate where our teammates, clad in TonDC Warriors sweatpants and sweatshirts, sat on the floor. The flight to Palm Springs, California didn't board for another two hours, but Indra had told them to arrive early at Reagan National Airport in case of changes. Waiting for the flight, Raven was sprawled out, a physics textbook propped in front of her, scrawling complicated notes. Harper braided Octavia’s hair as Octavia read a series of texts aloud.

“We were going to go to Chipotle. Any takers?” I asked, pulling the hood off and addressing the group.

“Negative, I want to get this assignment done so I don’t have to worry about it all week,” Raven replied, adding a last few marks to the page with a flourish and looking up. “Plus, I’m not into being third wheel on a goalie date,” she added, smirking.

I crossed my arms and said pointedly, “Clarke and I are not dating, so I fail to see how you would be a third wheel.”

“Okay, well, you two may not be dating but you’re the dynamic duo of bizarre humor with the witty banter you have going on 24/7. As hilarious as I am, us mere mortals can’t always keep up with your derailed train of thought. Plus you guys have that goalie thing,” Raven explained, looking back to her textbook as though this settled things.

“What ‘goalie thing’?” Clarke asked, her brows knitted skeptically.

“ _You_ _know_ ,” Octavia chimed in, “the goalie thing. You all are weird as shit.”

“WHAT?” Clarke and I bristled simultaneously.

“Calm down, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. So _sensitive_. Obviously we love you two, but you do and say some goofy shit. Most of the goalies do. Probably because you’re all nuts enough to enjoy playing a position where people hit balls at you at 90 miles per hour,” Octavia said, Raven nodding along with her.

“You two are ridiculous, you’re making this up. Harper?” Clarke questioned the girl who had remained silent.

Her fingers still working nimbly on Octavia’s hair, and looking as though she wanted to stay out of this argument, Harper sighed and conceded, “You all can be pretty goofy. But like Octavia said, it’s in a good way. And I’m going to pass on Chipotle, I already ate at home and I’m immersed in Octavia’s boy toy drama at the moment.”

“He’s NOT my boy toy,” Octavia growled under her breath, teeth clenched. Looking back towards me and Clarke, the grimace disappeared and she quipped, “You both know that I don’t have the same problem as Reyes with being your third wheel, but I ate at home too. Have fun on your goalie date.”

“Fine,” Clarke huffed, “You are all uninvited anyways. We’ll see you boring field players back here in a bit. C’mon Lexa.” She stalked off and I waved goodbye to the group as I followed.

“Clarke?”

“Don’t try and convince me to re-invite them. ‘Goalie thing’… pssh… they’re absurd. I’ll show them a goalie thing next time I take them out in practice,” Clarke mumbled, annoyed.

“Clarke,” I repeated, biting my lip to keep from smiling at her rant, “you know the Chipotle is in the opposite direction, right?”

“What?” she responded, confused for a moment and then the familiar half smile broke out across her features, “clearly I cannot be trusted with navigation. Lead on.”

We walked back the other direction, Clarke complaining about the ‘goalie thing’ all the way to the Chipotle. We both ordered burritos—Clarke a chicken and me a veggie with extra guac—and sat down at a small table. We started to eat in comfortable silence and I laughed as pieces of chicken fell from Clarke’s burrito onto the floor.

“If you’re lucky, half of what you paid for might end up in your mouth, Clarke,” I teased as a few more pieces dropped onto the table.

Clarke grinned and replied, “I thought you got yours to share when I’m still hungry after I’m done?”

I feigned seriousness, “I’m not sharing with you just because you shared with the floor.”  In reality, I thought, I would have given Clarke anything she asked for. Including the rest of my burrito.

“Then I’ll just have to take it by force, I guess,” her blue eyes sparkled mischievously.

“Not likely, Griffin. I have catlike reflexes and I trained in self-defense for years,” I boasted, smirking at the girl.

“Yes,” she said slowly, “but have you trained in burrito-defense?”

“‘Burrito-defense’?” I chuckled, “there’s no such thing…”

Clarke chose that moment to pounce, grabbing my burrito from right in front of me and laughing victoriously. “Who has catlike reflexes now?” Clarke teased.

I laughed, “You, apparently. The victor may have a bite of her spoils if it so pleases her. I’m finished anyways.”

Clarke happily took a bite and said through a mouthful of burrito, “I think I maybe get the weirdness they were talking about, miss ‘bite of her spoils’.”

“Yes, because ‘burrito-defense’ is completely normal,” I deadpanned.

Clarke chuckled, the corners of her eyes crinkling with a smile, “Whatever, maybe I don’t mind it being a ‘goalie thing’. At least we have fun, huh?”

I nodded, smiling. I didn’t mind, especially if it meant I got to be close to Clarke, laughing and making her laugh. I didn’t mind that at all.

=====================================================================================

After the 4-hour flight, the team loaded up into two 12-passenger vans. Between two bags of goalie gear, all of the field player’s equipment, and the duffels of 16 players and 4 coaches, there weren’t enough seats for everyone on the 30 minute drive to the hotel.

“I call Lexa’s lap!” Clarke announced as we loaded into one of the vans.

I saw Raven give Octavia a pointed look and I chuckled nervously as Clarke settled herself onto my lap. I kept my hands clenched at my sides, not sure what to do with them. Clarke grabbed them and pulled my hands onto her lap, grinning as she explained, “You’ve got to be my human seatbelt.”

“Somehow I don’t think that would work out too well,” I laughed, but I left my hands there just the same. Clarke leaned back into me and I rested my chin on her shoulder, the butterflies in my stomach fluttering intensely. Clarke seemed oblivious to the effect she was having on me, joking loudly with our teammates that shared the van.

We got to the hotel and checked into our rooms. I was disappointed to find out that Clarke and I would not be rooming together, but also thought that would probably be best in terms of allowing me to get good sleep and focus. After all, we were here for the National Hockey Festival. There would be college recruiters everywhere and I had to be on top of my game.

I got to my room, which I would be sharing with Raven and two other teammates that I didn’t know well. The first girl, a short redhead, went mainly by her last name, Monroe. She was a midfielder and a strong player who wasn’t overly flashy, but was skilled at setting up her teammates to score. The other girl, Fox, was a forward. Other than her position on the team, I knew little about the quiet girl.

“I’m going to put my gear bag on the balcony so it doesn’t stink up the room,” I said, sliding open the door and rolling out the heavy gear.

“Fancy meeting you here,” a voice called from my left.

I looked over and saw Clarke on the balcony next to me, laying out her gear as well. I grinned at the blonde and leaned down to unzip my bag. “Trying not to kill your roommates with goalie gear stink, too, I see,” I joked, flashing her a smile.

She walked over to the short wall separating the two balconies and climbed it, perching on the ledge as she said, “I was bummed that we wouldn’t be rooming together but I guess at least we’re neighbors. Now we can sneak out and have late-night balcony trysts,” she teased, giving me that half-smile again.

I stammered “Uhh… with Raven in my room I don’t think that would do much to… to convince her that we’re not dating.”

“I’m just kidding, ya weirdo. We’ve both got to get our sleep for the tournament anyways. Can’t have both the goalies bombing because we’re both exhausted,” she smiled. “Also, it’s just me and Harper in my room, if you and Raven want to hang out later,” the blonde added, jumping back onto her side of the balcony, “We were going to go get checked in downstairs for the tourney. Want to come?”

“Sure, I’ll ask the crew in our room,” I respond, nodding in the direction of the sliding glass door, “Meet you in the hallway in a few minutes?”

“Sounds like a plan, Commander,”

I walked back into the room where the rest of the girls had plopped onto the beds, TV on to TLC’s _Say Yes to the Dress_. Raven looked up before I could mention the plan to go get checked in, and asked, “What’s got you looking so pleased there, Lexa?”

I could feel my cheeks turning pink and crossed my arms defensively. “Nothing,” I lied, then trying to be nonchalant as I added, “Clarke and Harper are going down to the lobby to get registration squared away for the tournament.  You all want to come?”

“Ahh, Clarke, I should have known. Did you star-crossed lovers meet on the balcony?”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Raven, Clarke and I are not dating.”

“Whatever, that doesn’t mean you’re not star-crossed lovers,” she pointed out in a superior tone.

I noticed Monroe and Fox looking at each other, unsure of what to say. I rolled my eyes at Raven and said, “Whatever, I’m going down with them. Come down if you want.”

The three of them were slipping on flip flops as there was a knock on the door. I swung it open and Harper and Clarke were waiting, wallets and forms in hand.

“Ready?” Harper asked.

“I am, but _Raven_ was being argumentative and slowed us up,” I said loudly so the dark-haired girl behind me could hear.

“I was not. I was just telling it how it is,” Raven defended, swatting me on the back of the head with her paperwork as she walked out into the hall.

Fox and Monroe followed us out and we pulled the door closed, walking down the hall to the elevators.

=====================================================================================

Later that night, Clarke and I lay in her bed, Harper in the bed across the room and the glow of the TV the only source of light. Raven and Octavia had joined for a bit, but both said they were tired and had headed to bed a little while ago. We were watching _The Notebook_ , being particularly rambunctious and cracking inappropriate jokes throughout the romantic drama. Harper groaned at our worst gags, but she didn’t tell us to stop or poke fun at us the way Octavia or Raven would have.

The scene where Rachel McAdams sits in the bathtub in her wedding dress flashed across the screen and Clarke quipped, “Bitch is going to ruin her dress like that.”

Both Harper and I burst out laughing, I could feel tears at the corners of my eyes and I nudged Clarke in the ribs with my elbow. She nudged me back and it quickly escalated, Clarke tickling my sides and me trying to wrestle her hands away from me. I managed to get on top of the blonde, sitting on her bent up knees and pinned her hands above her head, as both of us laughed hysterically. I was leaned over her, my hair tickling her cheek, and I was again struck with the urge to close the distance between us. My eyes unconsciously flicked down to her lips for a second.

 Clarke bit her lip and then laughed breathily, “You win this time, Commander.”

Harper cleared her throat from the other side of the room and teased, “For ‘not dating’ you two are very touchy feely, sometimes.”

I let out a nervous laugh, rolling off of the blonde and back onto the bed, ensuring there was significant distance between the two of us. “Harper, like I told Raven earlier, Clarke and I are just friends,” I defended, making my voice as casual as possible. I glanced sideways at the blonde next to me on the bed and found she was staring at me. My heart hammered in my chest at her look—was that hurt? Did Clarke feel like we were more than just friends?

I blinked and the look had gone, she was smiling a forced smile at Harper and said, “Jeez Harper, you’re sounding like Raven. Lexa and I are just kidding around. You jealous you’re missing out on the fun?”

“Ahh, yes. That’s it, Clarke. I wish you two would come over here and tackle me, clearly,” Harper kidded, then adding, “But… in all seriousness… you know none of us would really have a problem if you guys _were_ dating? Raven, O and me, I mean.”

“While that’s nice to hear, I’m straight, remember?” Clarke quickly responded, her arms crossed tightly against her chest.

My heart sunk a little. Clearly I misread the look from earlier. I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t straight, but I also wasn’t out to Harper or the rest of the group yet, and now didn’t seem the time to chime in with a 'Well I’m not'.

“Okay, Clarke, I’m just saying,” Harper sighed, shrugging.

I yawned dramatically. “I am pretty tired. I think I’ll head to bed. See you guys in the morning, okay?”

“’Night,” Harper yawned, “I think I’m ready for sleep too.”

Clarke didn’t say anything but when I chanced a glance at her as I got up, she was staring at me intently, biting her bottom lip in worry.

I raised my eyebrows in silent question at the look and she smiled gently. _Goodnight, Commander_ she silently mouthed, giving me that crooked smile that made my heart hammer.

=====================================================================================

I had never been before, but the National Hockey Tournament was intense—college coaches and recruiters would set up their chairs before games, frantically scribbling on clipboards. The pressure was on, and I was intensely focused during games. But, like all tournaments, there was a lot of downtime between matches. Things had quickly returned to normal for Clarke and me. The morning after Harper had brought up us dating, I had been uneasy—unsure of Clarke’s intentions and expectations. But she had acted the same as always with me. Joking around at breakfast, sitting next to me in the van as we rode to the field, and warming up for the first game together.

After our first day of games, our coaches told us we would head to Target after dinner so that we could buy any snacks or things we would need for the next few days. Although I rarely drank it, I had gotten a Coke at dinner and was feeling particularly amped up on caffeine. Clarke jumped into my cart and commanded I push her around the store, shouting last minute directions at me as we navigated. My stomach hurt from laughing as I pushed her, responding with out of breath variations of “Yes, Ambassador,” to her ridiculous instructions.

We had loaded up on sunscreen, granola bars, and oranges and were headed to pick out some flavors of Gatorade when we passed the candy aisle.

“Ooo TURN, TURN, TURN!” Clarke yelled as we came up on the aisle. I swerved into it laughing.

“What kind of candy would please you, Ambassador?”

“Gummies, duh,” she announced, looking at the wall of brightly colored candies, “That bag of worms, there.”

I grabbed the bag and tossed it to her, it smacking her in the side of the head.

“Oww!” she shouted, “rude!”

I doubled over laughing, tears welling in my eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to have catlike reflexes?” I teased when I could breathe again.

Clarke crossed her arms and grumbled, “Whatever, get over here and push me to the chip aisle.”

We moved around the store like that and, as we were looking at socks with silly patterns, Clarke brought up our friendship.

“You remember at that first tournament in the spring, how I thought that you hated me?”

“Yes,” I replied, “Though I still don’t really know what gave you that idea.”

“You were never like this with me before. You were always so serious,” Clarke explained.

“To be honest, I’m not like this with anybody,” I mumbled, fiddling with the pair of socks in my hands.

Clarke swatted me on the arm with the pair of narwhal knee socks in her hand, getting me to look her way. Her blue eyes locked with mine and she confessed, “Then I’m happy that you’re like this with me, Lexa. I like it. I’m glad I get to see this side of you.”

“It’s easy with you,” I blurted out, not thinking about what that meant or how she might take that admission.

“It’s because we’ve got that goalie thing,” Clarke joked, maybe to cover my embarrassment.

“We should both get these and wear them for tomorrow’s games,” I said, nodding at the narwhal socks in her hand, “if we’re going to be accused of the ‘goalie thing’ we might as well lean into it all the way.”

“I’m so down,” Clarke smiled, “But we should get the bacon instead of the narwhals.”

“Deal, Ambassador,” I agreed, laughing as I grabbed two pairs of bacon knee socks off the wall.

=====================================================================================

Our last night before heading back to the east coast, the team piled into our room. We played a few rounds of Catch Phrase, laughing, sharing snacks and sipping overpriced sodas we bought from the vending machine at the end of the hall. Suddenly, someone came back from their room with an iHome speaker, and music was blasting, teammates dancing around the room to Flo-Rida and Rihanna. I was self-conscious about dancing, but Clarke grabbed my hands and made me jump around with her and I couldn’t help laughing and loosening up. Raven was DJing from the corner, scrolling through her iPod and queuing up songs. While Clarke’s back was to her, Raven motioned at me, waggled her eyebrows, and changed the song. Katy Perry’s “I Kissed a Girl” blasted through the speakers and I rolled my eyes, turning away. Clarke, who had no idea of Raven’s intention with the song, danced and sang along, still pulling me alongside her. Looking at Clarke bouncing and beaming at me, I gave in despite the fact that I knew Raven would inevitably comment. I heard an exaggerated wolf-whistle from behind me that I fastidiously ignored.  

With 16 girls dancing around in the cramped room, it was starting to get hot and I asked Clarke if she wanted to go get some air on the back porch. We stood outside, the cool night air almost instantly chilling the sweat on our bodies. Clarke laughed, still exhilarated from dancing and said “thanks for dancing with me, I know that’s not really your type of thing. But it was fun, right?”

“It definitely is not my thing, but yes, Clarke. It was enjoyable. I like dancing with you,” I replied, smiling.

Suddenly the music in the room behind us cut out and the lights flicked on. We could hear Indra’s booming voice over the confused mumbles of our teammates.

“Uh oh, looks like we’re in trouble.” I whispered.

“Come on, we can just pretend we were never here,” Clarke murmured, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the wall between the two balconies.

We both climbed over, sliding down the wall to sit at its base, hidden from view if someone came out onto the adjoining balcony. We giggled quietly, hiding there in the semidarkness, our sides pressed up together. With the thumping bass from my room silenced, we could hear the music the hotel was pumping out of speakers in the courtyard below us— _I’m Yours_ by Jason Mraz.

I started to hum quietly along to the song, commenting, “Much more my style,” when Clarke looked at me and smiled.

“Go on, sing it,” she encouraged.

“I’m not much of a singer, Clarke,” I laughed, but I started to sing along under my breath anyways.

She sang along with me, and we stumbled our way through the song, chuckling when we sang off-key or messed up the lyrics.

At the end of the song Clarke grabbed my hand, twining her fingers with mine and said “you have a good voice, Lexa. You should sing more.” With her looking into my eyes and our sides pressed tightly together, I was again aware of how close her face was to mine and my heart was beating 1000 miles a minute. I glanced down at her lips, just for a split second, looking up to see Clarke was staring at my lips too.

“What are you two doing?”

Harper’s head was poking over the wall, staring down at me and Clarke.

Clarke dropped my hand immediately, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed judging by the eyebrow raise it elicited from Harper.

“Hey, we heard Indra reaming everyone out for the music so we came over here to hide,” Clarke blurted out guiltily, standing up and putting intentional distance between us.

“Right…” Harper said, skeptically.

I was glad the wall meant my face was in shadow—I could feel my cheeks burning.

Clarke had climbed back over the wall before I even realized she had moved.

“You coming?” Harper asked gently, watching me with concern.

“Yes,” I swallowed a lump in my throat, “I’ll… I’ll be right there.”


	3. The Igloo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A snow day with 12-year-old Lexa and her best friend Costia takes a turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a bit different than the story so far, but I thought it was important background for Lexa in a lot of ways. Also, fair warning, not a happy ending to the chapter so if you're here for fluffy Clexa, this chapter isn't it. Cheers to everyone who has left comments, kudos, and followed the work so far. I sincerely appreciate the support and love to hear feedback!

**February 2004**

I was stretched out on the floor in front of the fire, paging through the newest book in my favorite series when the doorbell rang, breaking the silence in the house. I jumped up, my sock-clad feet sliding across the polished wood floor as I turned the corner into the entryway, almost crashing into my mom.

“Careful, Lexa!” she laughed, letting me dart around her and throw open the front door.

The winter wonderland outside made me squint as I grinned at the dirty-blonde girl on the other side of the storm door, her layers making her usual lanky figure look bulky. “Hi Cos!” I shouted through the glass, “I’ll be out in a minute, just let me put on all my gear!”

She rolled her eyes playfully at me, “Fine, but hurry up! We’ve got to get over to the sledding hill before everybody packs it down and it gets all slushy!”

I ran to the laundry room to grab my things and could hear my mom say to Costia through the front door, “It’s good to see you sweetie. Did your mom drive you here in this? You should sleep over if it gets too bad for her to get you later, okay?”

In my frantic effort to throw on my bulky layers, I couldn’t hear Costia’s response. I was pulling on my boots while I stumbled back to the front hall, my mom chuckling at my evident eagerness. “Where’s your hat, missy?” she scolded, looking me up and down to be sure I was properly dressed.

I pulled it from my coat pocket, along with my pair of gloves, shaking it in front of her impatiently as I tried to sidestep her to get to the door.

She grabbed the hat from me and pulled it onto my head, kissing my forehead as she said “Have fun, muffin. Come back for lunch or when you guys need to warm up. The sleds and shovels are in the garage.”

I rolled my eyes at the nickname and the kiss, but smiled at her and replied “Thanks, Mom. See you in a bit.” I swung open the glass door to greet my best friend and found she wasn’t standing on the porch anymore.

I looked around, confused, and yelled her name.  _Maybe she went to grab the sleds?_ I zipped up my jacket and pulled on my gloves as I stepped off the porch, a snowball immediately bursting on my chest.

“Gotcha, _muffin_!” Costia teased. She had been crouching behind a bush next to the porch, waiting to attack as soon as I came out.

“That was not fair,” I complained, “We hadn’t even established that we were in battle yet. I site you for misconduct, Miss Costia. Also, you know I hate that nickname. I only tolerate it from my mom because...”

 _Smack._ Another snowball hit me square in the face.

“Stop jabbering and start fighting, Lex!” Costia wheezed with laughter, doubled over at the look on my face as I brushed snow out of my eyes.

I ran over and tackled her into a snowdrift while she was still laughing, pinning her to the drift with my knees. She smiled up at me, giggling as she playfully tried to throw me off, and I grabbed her hands to pin them above her. I looked down at Costia and there was that warm, bubbly feeling in the pit of my stomach again. The one that occasionally flared up when she was around. I didn’t think much of it, I just knew that Costia was my best friend and I liked being around her. “The punishment for this treasonous action, Miss Costia, is…,” I started the sentence as a low growl and then, trying to surprise the girl pinned beneath me, I shouted “…DEATH BY 1000 SNOWFLAKES!” And, grabbing a handful of snow, I shoved it down her jacket and jumped up.

“No fair, ooo that’s cold! Lexa!” Costia howled as she danced around trying to shake the snow from inside her jacket.

“You asked for it!” I laughed, adding “Come on, you goof. Let’s grab the sleds and get over to the hill.”

We sledded most of the morning as the snow fell, running up and down the hill on repeat, building jumps, and having competitions to see who could make it the farthest on their track. Finally, when the cold had soaked through to the bones and we couldn’t feel our noses, we trekked back to my house for lunch and hot cocoa.

As I stirred the pot of Kraft mac and cheese on the stove, Costia sat on the counter, kicking her feet gently, and adding piles of mini marshmallows to the cups of cocoa beside her.

“Catch!” she suddenly shouted at me and I turned as she lobbed a marshmallow towards my mouth. I quickly tried to maneuver to catch it, but it bounced off my nose and fell to the floor. We both giggled as I plucked it off the floor and threw it into the trash.

“What do you want to do after we warm up a bit? I’m all sledded out,” I confessed, turning back to scoop the mac and cheese into bowls and handing one to the smiling blonde.

She happily shoveled a forkful into her mouth, looking thoughtful. “Igloo?” she asked through the mouthful.

“Gross, mac and cheese monster,” I grimaced, “but an igloo sounds like a lot of fun. I’m in. We can shovel the driveway and use that pile.  That’ll make my mom happy too,”

We moved to the living room with our lunch to sit on the floor in front of the fireplace. Costia grabbed my book from where I’d left it and flipped to the back, reading the synopsis.

“Ooo this is the new one, huh? How much have you read of it?” she asked, finishing her last bite of mac and cheese and putting the bowl down next to her on the floor as she flipped through the front pages.

She knew that the Redwall series was my favorite and, although it wasn’t necessarily her thing, she let me yammer on about the fictional worlds in which my favorite characters lived. I told her what was going on in the book so far and she lay down, resting her head on my crossed legs and propping up her feet on the hearth. I swallowed hard for a moment, that feeling back in my stomach at the contact.

“You read it to me for a bit while we warm up a little more?” she asked, pressing her head back to look up at me and grinning.

I was suddenly feeling very warm, but stammered out a “Yeah, okay…” and grabbed the book from her. She settled in and I laughed, “You going to fall asleep on me?”

“No, we've got an igloo to make still. I just want to hear a little of your favorite stories.”

“Alright then,” I murmured. Her interest touched me and I flipped to the first chapter and started to read aloud. I played with her hair absentmindedly as I read, and she stopped to ask me questions when things came up that she didn’t have background on. She listened intently and I was slightly unnerved to find that the few times I stole a glance at her while I flipped pages, she was staring up at me. When the third time I looked she was still staring, I felt my cheeks flush and I mussed up her hair.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Cos? Do I have mac and cheese on my face?” I asked, laughing nervously.

“No, no, nothing. I wasn’t staring,” she looked away immediately and sat up. Though she was mostly facing away from me, I could see her blushing and biting her lower lip nervously.

I felt like I had said the wrong thing, hurt her somehow. Things suddenly felt tense and we were both silent for a few moments. “You warmed up yet?” I stammered, playing with the pages of the paperback in my nervous hands.

“What?” she asked, jumping at my voice.

“Err… I mean… you ready to go back outside?”

She looked at me and the familiar grin was back in place, “Let’s do it!” She jumped up and gave me her hands, pulling me up easily. “Can you braid my hair for me though? It’ll be a tangled mess if I shove the hat back on it.”

=====================================================================================

Three hours later, we had finished shoveling the driveway and had made good progress on the igloo. It was barely big enough for the two of us to sit in it, so we were tunneling out a little more to make it more comfortable. The sun had gone down half an hour ago, that strange orange glow that came with snowfall lighting up the world so we could keep working.

“I think that might do it,” I pronounced, “Shall we see if it’s a little more comfortable?”

“Ladies first,” Costia quipped, pushing me out of the way so that she could crawl in first. A muffled “Come on in, the water’s fine!” reached my ears immediately after and I chuckled, getting onto my stomach to crawl in after her.

“You better hope it stays snow and not water while we’re in here, Costia,” I pointed out.

“Touché,” she responded, reaching up to brush snow off my shoulder and beaming at me as we sat cross legged, facing each other. Costia’s hat almost brushed against the roof, and there was about an inch of space between our knees, but we fit. We looked around at our work and admired it in silence for a moment, then both burst out into giggles. It was a tired kind of laughter, where neither of us were really sure what it was that we were laughing at. But it was contagious and endless and my frozen cheeks hurt from smiling. Finally able to stop laughing, Costia sighed, “It’s so quiet in here. And it feels safe. Like a hideout. Protected from the rest of the world.”

I nodded, watching this girl, my best friend. That warm, bubbly feeling was back. I thought about how lucky I was to have somebody so smart and kind and hilarious and _beautiful_ who wanted to spend her time with me. I could feel a nervousness flutter in my stomach at this thought, joining the warmth. I hadn’t ever let myself think it, in so many words, but Costia was beautiful. Though it was dark enough that couldn’t see them now, I had watched her eyes a thousand times before—a bright hazel with a freckle in her right iris. She was tall and thin and, despite the fact that we were in the midst of awkward adolescence, she somehow always managed to move with a sort of grace. When I hadn't fixed her hair into a neat braid, as it was now, it fell into effortless, beachy waves. She tucked the loose curls behind one ear when she was deep in thought and bit her perfect bottom lip when she was anxious. I vaguely comprehended that she was biting that lip right now.

“You’re the one staring now, Lex,” Costia whispered, leaning slightly forward so our knees bumped.

“I was just thinking about how beautiful you are,” I blurted out. My cheeks turned a beet red I was sure Costia could see, even in the dark. “IT IS… how beautiful IT IS in here,” I stammered. _Smooth. Very smooth, you idiot._

Costia giggled and leaned even further toward me. “It’s okay Lex,” she whispered, inches away from my face. My heart felt like it would beat out of my chest. Somehow she was even closer now and she breathed, barely loud enough for me to hear despite the silence of the igloo and her proximity, “I think you’re beautiful too.” And then Costia put her hands on my knees and leaned in and kissed me and I kissed her back. The warmth in my stomach that I’d felt before exploded. And then there was a bright light. _Was this in my head or…_

“What the _hell_ are you two doing?” my father’s booming voice popped our illusion of sanctuary in one fell swoop and we shot apart. That bright light was the flashlight my father was pointing into the entrance of the igloo. “Alexandria. Out here. Now,” he growled, sounding angrier than I had ever heard him. Costia’s eyes were round and huge. She was terrified.

The flashlight disappeared as he stood back and I grabbed Costia's hand to squeeze it briefly, then crawled out of the igloo. Before I was all the way out, my father grabbed me by the back of the jacket, pulling me up roughly.

“Costia. Get out here,” he shouted, not looking at me. She scrambled out of the igloo quickly, her eyes still wide. I was quietly thankful that he didn’t try to grab her jacket like he had mine. “Inside. Now,” he growled at us, turning and leading us inside, not looking back to be sure we were following. I could feel Costia staring at me, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn towards her.

He led us to the kitchen, pointed at the table, and wordlessly left the room. We both pulled out chairs and sat in silence. I pulled off my hat and gloves and could hear Costia unzipping her jacket next to me. Melting snow dripped from our boots onto the tiled floor.

“DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT YOUR DAUGHTER AND THAT GIRL HAVE BEEN DOING?” my father’s booming voice suddenly split the silence and I jumped at the noise and the tone in his voice. My throat was tight and I felt tears welling in my eyes, quickly wiping them away with the back of my hand. If he saw me crying it would just make it worse. Costia grabbed my hand, her fingers warm.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered frantically, “It was my fault. I kissed you. I’ll tell them it was my fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

I shook my head, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. To tell her that I wanted it too, that I had kissed her back, that it wasn’t her fault. Anything. But then we heard a creak at the top of the stairs and she dropped my hand quickly and I didn’t get the chance to say any of those things.

My mom appeared in the kitchen doorway and I could feel my body relax a little, for a moment. She looked at me with something I didn’t recognize; disappointment, maybe? This was worse than the yelling.

“Mom, I…” I started, but she held up a hand and the lump was back in my throat.

“Costia, I’m taking you home, okay? Get all of your stuff, please,” her tone was tense and left no room for argument. “Lexa, go upstairs. Your father wants to speak to you.”

“Mom, no, wait. We were just kidding around…” I tried, desperately.

Costia looked at me, tears welling in her eyes, biting her bottom lip.

“I don’t want to hear it, Alexandria. Don’t make it worse. Just go upstairs,” my mom sighed.

My heart sank. My mom never used my full name like that. Not even in the times that I had been in the worst trouble.

“’Bye, Lex,” Costia whispered as my mom walked out of the room. I could hear how close she was to tears and I wanted to hug her, but I was scared that would get us into even more trouble.

“’Bye, Cos. Everything will be okay. Okay?” I whispered, feigning confidence and giving her a small smile.

“Now, girls,” my mom’s impatient voice sounded from the front hallway.

We walked to the front hallway together where my mom waited at the front door. Costia walked over to her, glancing over her shoulder at me as they both stepped out into the snow and my mom snapped the door shut behind them.

=====================================================================================

I was staring up at the constellation of plastic stars that littered the ceiling of my bedroom through red-rimmed eyes when the doorbell rang. I glanced at the digital alarm clock next to my bed—it was well past 1 AM. I crawled quietly out of bed and stuck my ear to the door, listening. It was a man’s voice, but not my father’s. Puzzled, I opened my door, slowly creeping to the landing at the top of the stairs. My father stood in the front hallway with two police officers, now all talking in hushed tones. One of them glanced up at me and I could see it in the look on his face.

 _No, no, no, no, no._ My stomach dropped. I quickly forgot that I was supposed to be asleep hours ago. I forgot that I had just gotten into the worst trouble of my life.

“What happened? Where’s mom?”


	4. Waking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa sleeps over at Clarke's house the night before a team practice.

**December 2008**

I woke with a start, my heart pounding, sweat chilling the back of my neck and my forehead. I sat bolt upright, looking around frantically and trying to remember where I was. Suddenly, a gentle hand was on my thigh.

“Hey… hey. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Clarke’s voice was calming and it brought me back to reality. It was a dream. It wasn’t happening again, it had already happened. Years ago. I put my face in my hands, trying to discretely wipe away the tears at the corners of my eyes; to give myself time to breathe. I could feel myself rocking back and forth a little, the anxiety bubbling up inside me. I tried counting the polka dots on the rug next to the couch, only then remembering that I was in Clarke’s basement. I must have fallen asleep while we were watching a movie. I couldn’t remember what we had been watching.

Clarke gave a gentle squeeze on my knee and I jumped terribly. Clarke asked, barely over a whisper, “Lex, what were you dreaming about?”

I let out an uneven breath, my body shaking a little with nervous energy. “Just… ghosts… they come to me in my sleep sometimes,” I murmured, my throat feeling tight.

“It was just a nightmare,” Clarke soothed, and I could feel her looking at me intently.

I stared at the carpet still, my thoughts going a thousand miles a minute. “No…” I replied, pausing as I tried to think of a way to describe the dreams to the blonde next to me. “No… they’re memories, Clarke. They’re my past. It’s not just a bad dream…”

Clarke sat silently for a minute then questioned, “You see your mom?”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. I didn’t talk about the accident, but Clarke knew that my mom wasn’t around. She didn’t know about Costia, though—about how she was gone too. I felt the immense guilt settle in my chest. It came back every time I relived that day in my dreams. If I hadn’t kissed Costia back, if I had just tried harder to explain, then my father wouldn’t have sent Costia home, my mother wouldn’t have driven her, they wouldn’t have hit that sheet of black ice and… I shook my head, trying to shake the guilt out of me. This wasn’t productive, this spiral of remorse. I knew it wasn’t—I had been trapped in it for over a year after the accident. Guilt, feelings, love… it was all weakness. And I had gotten past it. All of it.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Clarke’s soft voice shook me again from my thoughts.

“I was twelve. My father caught me kissing my best friend, Costia. He was mad, so he told my mom to drive Costia home. The roads were icy and… neither of them made it,” the words sounded mechanical, coming from my mouth unconsciously, like all of the times I had recited the story to the therapists they made me see.

Clarke blinked for a minute, seemingly letting my words sink in. I braced myself for the inevitable awkwardness. People didn’t know how to handle a girl with a dead mother, let alone the rest of the story. But the blonde leaned in closer and grabbed my chin to turn my head so that I was looking her directly in the eyes. “Listen to me,” she paused, wanting to be sure she had my full attention, “What happened to your mom and Costia was not your fault. You acting on your love for someone didn’t cause that. But missing them, being affected by dreams about them, feeling… it doesn’t make you weak. You’re the strongest person I know, Lexa.”

I stared at her for a moment, the lump forming in my throat again. How was this girl able to read me like this—to see past my carefully constructed walls? She knew what I was feeling without having voiced it, and knew what it was that I needed to hear. My throat tight, I looked away, picking a book up off the floor and pacing across the room. There was a worn armchair at the end of the couch that Clarke had been perched in at the start of the night. On the seat of the chair lay her sketchbook, open, a piece of charcoal still resting on the page that she had been working on. It was a portrait. I looked at it upside down for a moment then, recognizing the subject, picked up the book to examine it more closely. It was me, asleep. Clarke had been drawing me.

“Oh umm… that’s umm… it’s not finished yet,” Clarke stammered, letting out an embarrassed laugh. She had stood to look at the drawing in my hands, too embarrassed to make eye contact. She glanced up at me, a smile in her eyes, her cheeks slightly pink. I searched her eyes for meaning. The drawing felt intensely intimate. I wanted to say something, to ask what it meant, to tell her it was a good likeness, anything. But, at that moment, the door at the top of the stairs swung open. I jumped away from Clarke, nervously, realizing how close we were.

Clarke’s father was at the top of the stairs, smiling down at the two of us. I saw Clarke quickly snap her sketchbook shut, hiding it behind her back as she beamed back up at the man. “Hi dad! What’s up?” she asked. She was slightly out of breath, as if she had been holding it a moment ago.

“Just wanted to see if you two wanted some ice cream before your brothers eat it all?” he asked cheerfully, adding “Am I interrupting something?” He looked concerned rather than angry. Although I didn’t know him well, every interaction I had with the man seemed to reinforce how different Clarke’s father was from my own.

“Nope, we just finished our movie and were talking. And I always want ice cream, duh!” Clarke joked, “C’mon, Lex.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the stairs.

=====================================================================================

We lay across from one another in Clarke’s bed, a few hours later. I was looking into her blue eyes intently, still trying to read her feelings behind them. She traced the lines on my palm that lay face up between us, smiling as my hand twitched when it tickled. She glanced up and caught me staring at her and gave me that crooked smile that always made my heart speed up.

“Can I ask you something? And you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to, okay?”

Since her dad had interrupted us, we hadn’t returned to the conversation from earlier and I was slightly nervous Clarke was going to push me to tell her more about my past. I inhaled deeply and held my breath as I nodded.

“What was it like… kissing Costia?”

I blinked once, confused. This was not the question I had expected.

Clarke flushed, misreading my confusion, and stammered, “Never mind, stupid question, you don’t have to answer that.”

“Clarke?” I tried to interrupt the girl’s nervous monologue.

 “I was just… I was being nosy and you obviously don’t want to talk about it and that’s okay, I get that.”

“Clarke!” I laughed, holding my finger to her lips, finally silencing her rambling. “It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting that to be what you wanted to ask,” I sighed, thinking back to that moment, trying to ignore everything that had happened afterwards to not let any of that taint what I felt when Costia kissed me. Clarke’s eyes were on mine, waiting patiently for my response, so I dropped my hand back to the bed and I started— “I guess you have to understand Costia was my best friend when I was younger. She was the most thoughtful, patient, beautiful person. I got this bubbly feeling in the pit of my stomach when I was around her. And when I kissed her it was like that feeling exploded. We had been outside in the snow all day and our lips were both freezing but it was still this warm, incredible, happy feeling.” Clarke was staring at me and I was suddenly embarrassed, my cheeks warming.

“Have you ever felt that way again?” Clarke asked, her eyes still intently on mine.

“No. I've been with other girls since and I liked it, certainly, but... I don't know... it was different...” I admitted, fidgeting with a thread in the sheets.

“Not the kiss part, really... the bubbly feeling you were talking about. Have you felt that again?”

I gulped, staring at the beautiful girl across from me. I nodded. “Yes… I hadn’t for a long time. But it… it’s back right now, actually.” _And basically every other time you’ve touched me or gotten really close since I met you._ Clarke let out a breath she seemed to have been holding. My heart was hammering in my chest as I stared at the girl, the seconds ticking by.

“I feel that too,” Clarke finally whispered, her finger back to tracing my palm. I was sure she would feel my racing pulse through it, somehow. “I feel that when I’m around you. I’ve never… felt that for a… a girl before,” she stammered nervously, biting her lip in worry.

I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my lips at her admission. “That’s okay,” I whispered, my voice shaking a little with nerves. I didn’t want her to feel like her feelings had to mean anything. Or that we had to do anything about them if she didn’t want that.

But a second later Clarke asked in a rush, “Can I kiss you yet or what?”

I laughed, thinking she was joking, but she was looking at me intensely, waiting for an answer.

“Yes, Clarke, you can kiss me,” I answered, my heart fluttering just at saying the words. She sat up, cross-legged on the bed and faced me, and I rushed to sit up to meet her.

She chuckled nervously, “Ready?”

I swallowed hard, nodded, and scooted myself forward until our knees bumped. The familiarity of the position sent a sudden wave of panic down my spine and I jumped back. But there wasn’t anywhere to jump back to. My arms pin-wheeling comically, I fell backwards off of the bed with a loud thump.

Clarke crawled to the edge of the bed above me, laughing hysterically once she realized I hadn’t hurt myself. “What happened?” she managed to wheeze out through her laughter. I covered my face, mortified. Between her laughter and my crash to the floor, I was shocked her entire family wasn’t standing in her doorway asking what was going on. But there were no knocks on the door, no distant noises in the house, just Clarke laughing as she offered me a hand to help me up.

I took it, grudgingly, and climbed back into the bed, burying my face into the pillow.

“Seriously, are you okay?” she asked, laying down next to me, “Any serious wounds?”

“Just my pride,” I mumbled into the pillow.

Clarke chuckled and I felt her fingers tracing patterns on my back, trying to get me to look at her. I finally obliged and turned my head to face her. She smiled a sad smile at me and said, “Hey, we don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to. I just thought…”

“No, Clarke, I want to. Believe me. It’s just… the position we were in… it just reminded me of kissing Costia… and I think it just…everything that happened after that…” I knew I wasn’t being coherent, but Clarke seemed to understand. She scooted closer to me in the bed so we were just a few inches apart.

Her blue eyes darted down to my lips and her voice was lower than usual, “Did you ever kiss somebody lying down like this?” She ran her thumb over my bottom lip as she asked and my heart felt like it was about to beat out of my chest. I shook my head almost imperceptibly and she leaned in closer, she was barely an inch away but she seemed to be waiting for me to close the distance. I pulled my eyes from hers, glancing down at her pink lips, and leaned in that inch for our lips to connect. The fireworks going off in my chest were more intense than anything I had felt before. Finally, _finally_ , I was getting to kiss Clarke. I slipped one hand to the back of her head, knotting my fingers in her hair, pulling her closer. I could feel her smile against my lips and the warm feeling bubbled up inside me until I had to let out a giggle. I pressed my forehead to hers, out of breath, looking into her blue eyes.

“Holy shit,” Clarke breathed out.

I laughed, “Yeah, I think ‘holy shit’ about covers it.”

She laughed wholeheartedly, pressing her head into the crook of my neck. We lay there in silence, and my cheeks hurt with the smile that was plastered on my face, but I didn’t care. I got to kiss Clarke and it was wonderful and I was the happiest I had been in a long time.

“Your heart is beating crazy fast, Lex,” Clarke whispered into my skin—her ear was pressed against my pulse point.

I chuckled softly, “And yours isn’t?”

Clarke pulled away to lay back on her pillow and I was disappointed by the lack of contact with her for a moment, until she snaked her arm under me and pulled me close so that I could lay my head on her chest. “I don’t know, how about you check for me?” she gave me a sideways smirk as I settled my head onto her chest.

“Still beating pretty fast, Ambassador. Something got you all riled up?” I joked, sighing contently as Clarke’s fingers played with my hair tentatively.

“I wonder what could’ve done that, Commander,” She deadpanned.

My body still felt like it was filled with electricity, but I felt the gentle rise and fall of Clarke’s chest turn to a slow and steady pace beneath my head. I went to move, thinking she had fallen asleep, and her arm pull me closer to her. “Stay,” she mumbled sleepily, leaning down to kiss the top of my head.

My heart fluttered with happiness as I drifted off to sleep, cuddled up next to this wonderful girl, wondering how I got so lucky.

=====================================================================================

“Clarke can you drive me to… uhhh what’re you two doing?”

My eyes shot open and in an instant I took in the scene in front of me. Clarke’s youngest brother, Aden, was standing in the doorway, one eyebrow raised. I was lying in bed with Clarke. I was spooning Clarke, to be exact, my hand on her bare stomach under her shirt. Mortified, I quickly pulled away. Clarke yawned and stretched, seemingly not bothered by the position we had woken in nor by the fact that her brother had just caught us in said position.

“What’s up, Aden?” Clarke asked the boy, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Uhh… if you two are done having a lovefest,” the young boy smirked, knowingly, “can you drive me to lacrosse practice at eleven? It’s on the way to your practice anyways.”

I blushed intensely felt my hands ball up at my sides. What if Aden told Clarke’s parents and they didn’t want me around Clarke anymore? I bit my lip in worry and looked away.

Clarke rolled her eyes at the boy but didn’t seem otherwise concerned as she replied, “If you want a ride you better be ready to go at 10:30. Indra will kill us if Lexa and I are late and dropping off my dopey little brother is not an approved excuse.”

Aden mock saluted, and with a “Yes, sir” he turned to leave but paused in the doorway. “Have you told mom and dad?” he asked.

Clarke shrugged, “Tell them what?”

“That you and Lexa are a thing, _finally_?”

I was deeply uncomfortable. Clarke and I hadn’t even talked about what we were or if we were anything, really. We’d just kissed last night. And I guess, apparently, I had gotten handsy in my sleep too.  I was deeply embarrassed and, on top of that, I felt like I was intruding on a private conversation between Clarke and her brother. I quickly glanced sideways at Clarke and tried unsuccessfully to read her body language.

Clarke sighed, “First of all, what do you mean _finally_? Second of all, who says Lexa and I aren’t just cuddly when we sleep? And third, it’s my business when and if I talked to mom and dad about stuff, _okay_?” She said the last word pointedly.

Aden held up his hands as if to show he meant no harm, “Hey, you know I won’t tell them anything. That’s your business. But just so you know, the whole family knows you like each other anyways, and mom and dad have made it clear they don’t care. They like Lexa, in case that was a concern. And I mean _finally_ as in you two have been flirting since the day like a year ago we came to your tournament and you guys were on the same team.”

Both Clarke and I stared at the boy with our mouths agape.

He just rolled his eyes and laughed. Walking out of the doorway Aden called over his shoulder, “Thanks for the ride, I’ll be ready at 10:30.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued thanks to those who have left comments, kudos, and followed this story! The feedback definitely makes me want to continue writing this story and I would love to hear any thoughts on things you're liking/not digging so much. Or any suggestions on things you'd like to see in the story would be great! Cheers!


	5. One v One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya is back in town from college, Clarke and Lexa have practice and shit goes down with one of the new goalies on the team.

**December 2008**

_Anya: Hey kid, you got practice today?_

_Lexa: Yeah at 11. Clarke has family in town so my father is dropping me off.  I know you had to go off to be some freshman superstar in college and everything but I miss you. And the time I spent in your crappy car driving to hockey things._

_Anya: I see how it is. You only miss me for the rides. And my car is magnificent thanks very much. How’re things with the gf?_

_Lexa: *rolls eyes* The only magnificent thing about your car was the number of times we had to ask teammates’ dads to jump it. And you know I miss you for more than the rides. Don’t make me get sappy._

_Anya: You just going to ignore the gf comment? Also eww feelings. Gross. I’m only friends with you because I can trust you to be as emotionally vacant as I am._

_Lexa: I don’t know to whom you are referring, seeing as I don’t have a girlfriend. And true, that is how we first bonded._

_Anya: Whatever, you can tell me all about Clarke tonight. You have plans? I got back in town late last night for winter break._

_Lexa: No plans. Your house?_

_Anya: Obviously. Have a good practice. Let me know if your dad bails and you need a ride home._

I was glad to hear from Anya. I really had missed her—in addition to our emotional deficiencies, neither of us had been particularly good at communicating when she left for field hockey preseason in August. We Facebook messaged and texted occasionally, but we were both busy. I was looking forward to truly catching her up on everything. Her logical perspective on things, as well as her deadpan sense of humor, made her a person I frequently went to for advice. And I needed some advice about what to do with one particular blonde.

=====================================================================================

I ran back and forth across the gym floor, stretching and warming up before getting into my gear. Clarke hadn’t yet shown up and I was a little concerned she might not make it to the practice at all. It had been a week since the kiss and we hadn’t really broached the topic of what it might mean. After her little brother had accused us of finally being a “thing”, we had both been fairly reserved with one another. It wasn’t radio silence, certainly. We still texted over the week and I wasn’t concerned that Clarke was avoiding me or anything. I certainly wanted to know the blonde’s feelings, but I also wanted to let Clarke process, if she needed to, without interruption. After all, it seemed like I was the first girl Clarke had had feelings for and almost certainly the first girl that she had kissed. And although Aden had assured us that Clarke’s parents were receptive to the idea of Clarke liking someone of the same sex, I knew firsthand that the reactions of family could still be… _complicated_. As well as her own reaction to the possibility that she might be something other than 100% straight. Coming out to yourself was a process, one that I had had much more time to come to terms with than Clarke.

My mind turning over those same thoughts for the thousandth time since Aden had left us in Clarke’s room, I finished stretching and started pulling on my gear. I bent over my bag, shifting through equipment to find my chest protector. Suddenly, I felt a playful smack on my ass through my protective shorts, making me jump in surprise.

“Long time no see, stranger,” Clarke laughed, beaming ear to ear.

“Clarke! Hi!” I grinned back at the girl, that familiar warmth returning to quell my uneasiness. I wanted to hug the girl, to kiss those lips again, but satisfied the urge for contact by playfully smacking her arm, “I thought you were going to be late. Better get warmed up and gear up.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll still have all my gear on before you, Woods,” the blonde quipped as she jogged backwards away from me, winking.

My stomach clenched at the wink and I let out a breathy laugh. “Unlikely, Griffin,” I shouted at her across the gym floor, smirking as I rushed to get all my gear on.

I leaned on my stick, my hand pad tucked under my arm, watching Clarke put on her gear and chatting idly, as we always did. We still had some time before practice was set to start. “So what was going on this weekend, again?” I asked, trying (and failing) not to stare at the blonde’s ass as she stripped down to spandex shorts and leaned over to rummage in her gear bag. I had the sudden impulse to repay her in kind for the earlier smack.

“…Earth to Lexa?” Clarke asked, smirking. I had evidently entirely missed girl’s response.

Raven walked past, tightening the straps on her knee brace, and deadpanned “Wipe that drool off your chin, Woods, and pass with me a little bit while Clarke finishes getting dressed.”

I sputtered incredulously for a moment but, as I had no real defense, I grinned sheepishly at Clarke and stepped over the boards to join Raven on the court. I was vaguely aware of eyes on me and turned to see one of the other goalies, a year younger than myself and Clarke, watching me with her dark eyes narrowed as she put on her gear. I cocked one eyebrow at the brunette, questioning her scowl. She looked away immediately, but not without muttering something under her breath. I had never played a tournament with her and she was relatively new to the team, so I didn’t know her name, but I recognized her from a distinct scar between her eyebrows. Whoever she was, she seemed to have a problem with me for some unknown reason.

“Oy, you ready or what?” Raven called from across the court, ready with a ball on her stick.

“Yeah, sorry…” I responded, deciding I would ask Clarke if she knew the new girl’s deal.

Raven passed the ball my way and I directed it back towards her, focusing on the form of my clear. The two of us got into a rhythm, Raven purposefully making me move for a few balls in order to get my footwork down. As much as Raven joked around, I appreciated her seriousness when it came to field hockey. Although she and Clarke were certainly closer friends, Raven and I had formed a sort of unspoken partnership in which she would help me warm up before practices and games. Raven was a strong defender on the field. This meant that, unlike many of the forwards who tended to be flashy and simply tried to show off when warming up goalies, Raven understood the progression necessary for a successful warm up. The leg injury that had left her with the brace had also tuned her into the significance of the mental side of the game. I knew little about the accident, except that it hadn’t occurred on the field. But, in moments of my own frustration, Raven had mentioned the frustration she felt during recovery at not being able to perform on the field and how she had learned to not let those feelings dictate how she played. She often got my head back into the game when I let a ball by that I felt I should have been able to get and was the first one to smack my pads in appreciation when I made a particularly crucial save.

Clarke, in full gear, sidled up next to me and stole Raven’s next pass with her stick, laughing as she played with the ball before clearing it back to the dark haired girl. Octavia and Harper bounced over to our group to pass with us, smiles on their faces, and I was suddenly struck by how different hockey had become for me in the last year since I had met Clarke and she had made the effort to integrate me into her group of friends. I, of course, still took the sport and the possibility of recruitment onto a college team extremely seriously, but I also allowed myself to have more fun with hockey than I had before. In addition to being more enjoyable, it was remarkable how much this change had improved my game. I was more relaxed and better able to make important saves—I no longer felt the constant fear of disappointing both Indra and my teammates.

Indra actually had started to seem less formidable. During a few practices, I could even have sworn I saw a ghost of a smile flash across the woman’s face in response to the antics of our little group. It helped that we never took goofing off too far or let it interfere with the productivity of practice, something that would have earned us all sprints. Though she certainly put the pressure on all of us, I also think she saw how the friendships improved us as players and was cognizant of the importance of that aspect of the game. The small, dark woman called us over to start the practice, directing us on where each group should begin and splitting up her assistant coaches with the groups. Our goalkeeper coach, Jackson, was a young guy with whom Clarke and I often joked at practices. He got us set up for the first drill, just a few basic footwork ladders to get everyone warmed up. It was a small group of goalies today— just Clarke, the new girl who had glared at me before, a witty, curly-haired senior named Gina, and myself.

We got through the first drills quickly and Clarke joked with Jackson, “C’mon, what else you got, boss?”

Jackson laughed, “You all want to work on 1v1s? You could use the work, Griffin, you were getting sloppy last tournament.”

Clarke clutched her heart, feigning to be deeply wounded by this comment, but I grinned widely. Taking forwards one on one was my favorite—the opportunity to be aggressive and take out the cockiest of forwards before they even got their chance to get the ball off of their stick was one of the reasons I loved playing goalie so much.

Seeing my wide grin behind my mask, Jackson inclined his head towards me, instructing, “Lexa first, since I know she could do this all day. We’re going to walk through some stuff slowly first though. Show Ontari a few ways to handle field players in indoor hockey.”

I smiled at the new girl, apparently named Ontari, as I went to get set in front of the cage but she glared at me fiercer than before. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. It seemed like she already thought she was better than the rest of us and that neither Jackson nor myself had anything of value to show her. _Well, you’ll see about that, won’t you?_ I bent my knees and put up my hands, ready to spring into action as soon as Jackson started dribbling the ball across the smooth floor. He moved and I rushed forward, my footwork controlled, breaking down my steps before I reached him and sliding into a stack, clearing the ball away down the court.

“Good!” Jackson praised, as he stumbled over my pads. He then went on to point out what I had done right in the move and made a few minor adjustments to my form. Ontari’s glare remained in place. I ran through the drill four more times, Jackson pointing out what I had done well or should have done better each time. Finally, I ended on a relatively spectacular dive that saved the ball just as it was about to cross the line after a quick recovery from a failed attempt at a stack. Clarke cheered for me and, glancing over, I saw that this seemed to infuriate Ontari even further. Jackson patted me on the back and called Gina to come do a couple of runs of the drill.

The older girl hustled over to Jackson down by the cage as I approached the others around the outside of the circle. I gravitated immediately towards Clarke, ignoring the scowling girl completely. As soon as I was beside the blonde, she put her arm around my shoulders. “Nice one!” she beamed, her blue eyes shining.

I heard a loud scoff behind us and my head whipped around to see Ontari with a look of utter disgust on her features.

“Problem?” I asked, ice in my voice. _What was with this girl?_

“You two are the biggest fucking _lesbians_ I’ve ever seen,” she spat, looking from me to Clarke with revulsion.

Clarke stiffened next to me and took her arm from around my shoulder quickly. I glanced over at Clarke and I could see the fear and hurt in her eyes, but she plastered a fake smile on and joked in a forced way, “Well, aren’t you charming? You normally make a lot of friends with lines like that?”

Although Clarke was acting cool, the hurt I saw in her eyes at the comment made the annoyance I already felt towards the girl’s attitude burst into a white hot fury. I dropped my stick and hand pad behind me, about to step up toe-to-toe with the shorter girl, when she suddenly stumbled forward and fell to the ground. Raven stood behind her, having pushed the girl, and she leaned down so that her face was inches away from the new girl’s. Growling in a voice I had never heard from her before, “I don’t know what rock you crawled out from under or who the fuck you think you are, making homophobic comments like that to two of my best friends. But you clearly have a hell of a lot to learn, so I suggest you fucking butt out of other people’s business and _pay… the fuck… attention_.” Raven’s finger poked the girl threateningly in the chest to punctuate her last words. “Got it?” she spat.

“What’s going on here?” Indra questioned. She had come up without me noticing and had her arms crossed, looking as stern as I had ever seen her. That woman could smell conflict from a mile away.

=====================================================================================

O, Harper, Raven, Clarke and I walked out of the sports complex together after practice and all stood by Clarke’s truck. I thanked Raven again for dealing with Ontari. She grabbed both of my shoulders and looked into my eyes, “Really, Lex, stop thanking me. She was way out of line and the little bitch pissed me off. She can’t say shit like that. I’m just glad I was standing right behind her when she said it.” I was genuinely thankful that Raven had handled it as she had, but the proud, independent part of me wished that I had been the one to put Ontari in her place. Although, I felt I probably would have done worse than just push the girl down and, thinking about it with a clearer head an hour after the event, the consequences of getting into a physical altercation with a teammate (even a teammate that clearly deserved a good smack upside the head) wouldn’t have been worth it.

Raven had also been clearheaded enough to explain the situation to Indra, something neither myself nor Clarke had been able to do, and Ontari had then been taken aside individually by Indra. Whatever Indra had conveyed to the short brunette in the office at the sports complex, Ontari was significantly more subdued for the remainder of practice. She didn’t say a word to anyone, but shot dirty looks at me, Clarke, and Raven when she was sure none of the coaches were looking.

While I was grateful to have the support of my friends, I really wanted to discuss things alone with Clarke. I had seen that hurt in her eyes and she had been reserved for the rest of the practice. I was worried that Ontari’s words had affected her more than she was letting on. It seemed like she had already had a lot on her mind since the kiss and now this whole debacle. Eventually, the rest of the group went off to Harper’s car, headed out to get Panera Bread together for dinner. Both Clarke and I assured them that we had things to do and couldn’t go. As we waved to our friends as they pulled out of the lot, we stood in awkward silence on the chilly sidewalk, leaning against the side of Clarke’s truck. I could feel the cold from the metal seeping into my back through the sweatshirt I was wearing.

“Are you okay?” I asked gently, reaching out my hand to squeeze Clarke’s reassuringly. She jumped slightly but didn’t pull her hand away, squeezing mine back. She looked over at me and tears were welling up in her blue eyes. I pulled her into a tight hug and she buried her face into my shoulder. I could feel her silent tears through the sweatshirt.

She pulled back to look me in the eyes. “I’m sorry…I…,” she started, taking in a deep breath to steady herself. I stared at her with concern—she had nothing to be sorry for. Clarke continued, “I’m not ready to be with you... Not yet.”

My throat was tight. I wanted to say something, to tell her that was okay, that I understood. But I just smiled sadly, nodded, and squeezed Clarke’s hand again. She got into her truck, looking back at me, tears still welling in her eyes, and pulled out of the parking lot.

“Fuck.” I whispered to myself as I sat down heavily on my bag of gear, pulling out my phone. There was one missed text message from my father.

_Father: Meeting running long. Can’t come get you._

“Perfect.”

I flipped to my contacts and pressed call on the first number. It rang twice and someone picked up. Before the voice at the other end could say anything, I spoke, “I need you.”

Anya’s voice replied, without a note of hesitation, “I’m getting in the car now. What’s wrong?”

I hunched my shoulders against the hurt and the cold, kicking the toe of my sneaker into the pavement. My throat was still tight, I felt tears welling in my own eyes now, and I shook my head mutely.

Despite my silence on the line, Anya understood that I was too upset to talk.

“I’ll be there soon, kid. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“Okay,” I managed to choke out.

“I’m going to hang up so I can drive, okay?”

“Okay,” I repeated, voice a little stronger this time, nodding my head despite the fact that she couldn’t see me.

The phone beeped to signal the disconnected call and I stared at the phone screen blankly.

Suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder and I jumped, wiping the corners of my eyes and whipping around to see Indra standing above me.

“Let’s talk, Woods,” the woman said softly, a glimmer of kindness in her eyes betraying her stoic façade.

I nodded and stood up to face her, not sure what to expect. She grabbed my shoulders, holding me at arm’s length as though inspecting me for damage.

“I’m sorry that you and Griffin had to deal with that today,” she started and I got the impression that her eyes were x-raying me as she spoke. “I made it clear to Ontari that if I hear that another slur like that has come out of her mouth she’s off the team. You’re a great player Woods, and you and Griffin are good for each other. You’ve both made each other better players. I hope you don’t let the thoughtless reaction of one person spoil what you two have or allow it to make you uncomfortable with the person that you are.”

I swallowed hard. “Clarke and I are just friends, coach,” forcing a smile onto my face as I said it, “but, thank you.”

She continued to x-ray me for a moment more. “Regardless of the label you choose, for yourself or for your relationships, you should know that for every one person who has something nasty to say, you have a whole team of people who have your back.”

With that, Indra shook my hand firmly, turned, and walked over to her black SUV.

Stunned for a second, contemplating the meaning behind her words, I quickly shouted “Thank you, coach!” in her direction before she got into her car. She waved a hand in recognition that she’d heard me and, just then, Anya pulled up in her beat up Honda Civic, rolling down the window as she approached.

“Get in the car, bitch, we’re getting food. Your treat,” Anya yelled at me over the bump of Kanye West’s “Stronger” blasting on her radio, managing to crack a smile across my features.

“Oh, how I have missed you,” I quipped back at her as I shoved my bag into the small trunk that was already littered with athletic gear. I yanked the passenger door open (it always stuck) and slumped into the seat next to Anya who turned the volume down slightly and looked over at me.

“Okay, kid. First, we eat. Then, you tell me everything. Deal?” she asked, punching me lightly on the shoulder.

“Deal,” I mirrored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is more angst and not more fluffy Clexa. I promise things will end up happy for our two favs.
> 
> Thank you so so much for those of you that consistently comment, for all the kudos and support on this! I'm glad that so many folks are enjoying reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. Let me know if there's anything in particular that you want to see in the story. Thanks again!


	6. About Bravery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A phone call, some big sister advice, and more of the first day Clexa met.

**December 2008**

I woke to a harsh buzzing. The cogs in my half-asleep brain clicked into life-- my phone was rattling against the bedframe. Eyes mostly shut, I groped to stop the intrusive noise and heard Anya groan from the other side of her bed, “Who the fuck is calling you this early on a Sunday, you asshole? It’s God’s day. We should be sleeping until noon.” I reached blindly for the vibrating device between the mattress and the wall and my fingers finally closed around it. I pulled it out, holding it close to read the caller ID on the tiny front screen and squinting at the bright light as my eyes tried to focus. _Clark._ I sat bolt upright and my heart hammered as I fumbled to answer the call.

“Hello?” I rasped, my voice still cracking with sleep. Anya swiftly kicked me in the side, indicating she would appreciate it if I took the call elsewhere. I struggled to get out of the bed, tangled in the blankets.

“Did I wake you up?” Clarke’s voice was filled with concern and uncertainty; as though she weren’t sure she should be calling at all.

“No,” I whispered, closing Anya’s door behind me as I crept out into the hall, heading towards the bathroom, “well... yes. But that’s okay. What… how are you doing, Clarke?” I said her name softly as I settled onto the bathroom floor, leaning back against the cabinet of the vanity. The heat vent was by my bare feet and it warmed them as I waited for the girl’s response.

"I well... you know... I've been better, honestly. But I... I didn’t want to leave it like we did yesterday after practice, Lex. I hated leaving you there in the parking lot. I just… can you talk now?”

“I understand why you had to leave, but I’m glad that you called. I can talk. I’m at Anya’s house, but she’s still asleep. So if it sounds like I’m whispering, that’s why…” I trailed off, aware I was probably rambling.

“Okay…” Clarke started and I could tell she was fidgeting with something on the other end of the phone, “I’m sorry I’m not ready, I just got scared and this is all still really new to me. I’ve never… I’ve never felt this way about another girl and I thought I was okay with it and I feel like I should be okay with it because like Aden said my folks have indicated that it’s fine by them and our friends are obviously supportive and I really, really like you a lot but then Ontari said that and suddenly everything that I’ll have to deal with hit me and that scares me…” she said all this in a rush without taking a breath and when she trailed off I could hear her throat getting tight with tears.

“Whoa, Clarke, breathe. I totally understand. You’re okay. You’re allowed to be scared. I’m here though, okay? I can talk through this with you,” I soothed as I heard a sniffle on the other end of the phone. I kept talking so she wouldn’t have to talk through her tears. “I’m so sorry that Ontari’s words got to you yesterday. I wish we had had a chance to talk about everything before that. I hope you didn’t think I was trying to ignore everything this past week. I just knew it was probably a lot for you to process and I wanted you to have space to do that and not feel like I was pressuring you in any way, okay? I still want to do that—to give you the space and time to figure things out if you want that. But if you want to talk about things, I know somebody who has had to navigate coming out to herself and who really, really likes you a lot too,” I joked, hoping I could crack a smile.

I beamed as I heard the girl laugh through her tears, “Oh yeah, is she cute?”

I blushed, “I don’t know, you’ll have to be the judge of that.”

“I have a strong suspicion she is,” Clarke quipped, making me giggle nervously and my cheeks turn a deeper pink. In that moment I was relieved she couldn’t see me.

We were silent for a minute and I could tell Clarke had calmed down.

“Lex?” she sighed, barely audible.

“Yes, Clarke?” I whispered, matching her intensity.

“Thanks for being you.”

“Thank you for being brave enough to give me ‘not yet’ and not just ‘never’.”

=====================================================================================

“Who was that?” Anya mumbled into her pillow as I crept back into her room a few minutes later.

“Uhh… Clarke, actually,” I tried to sound nonchalant but I could hear the smile in my own voice.

“WHAT!?” Anya shouted throwing a pillow at me and hitting me square in the face.

“Hey, oww! Someone’s feeling particularly abusive this morning…” I grumbled.

“Why didn’t you tell me that, you dork, I wouldn’t have kicked you out if I had known that. I could have listened on speaker with you.”

“Right, like you’d ever be able to keep your mouth shut. That would’ve been very smooth. ‘Hi Clarke, please ignore the snark in the background. Anya screens all of my calls now.’” I threw the pillow back at her.

She caught it easily and patted the bed for me to sit down beside her, “Fine, fine, you’re right. Whatever. But you are still obligated to tell me everything, so spill.”

“Why am I _obligated_?” I asked, knowing full well I would tell her, but wanting to give her a hard time.

“Because if you don’t tell me willingly I’ll sit on you until you do,” Anya threatened.

I deadpanned, “You make a compelling argument. That first semester pre-law has really done wonders for you, Anya.”

She rolled her eyes, and poking me in the side playfully, sighed “Yeah, yeah. So tell me already.”

With that, I rehashed the call as she sat patiently, listening until the end and looking thoughtful. Although we bickered like actual sisters, Anya was truly an incredible listener and I could always trust she would give me her full attention and give me earnest advice.

“So what you told me last night was right, then,” she finally spoke, “That girl’s comment scared her. Side note, I still say you should find out where this Ontari girl lives and let me go over there and scare the little bitch… but back to the current predicament. What does that mean for you and Clarke, then?”

I rolled my eyes at Anya’s tangent, “As I told you yesterday, it seems like Indra has it under control. Although I appreciate you going into protective big sister mode, I don’t want you getting into trouble. Ontari is definitely not worth that. And…” I paused, thinking about how I would address her question. _Where did this leave me and Clarke?_

“I don’t know, I guess?” I admitted, “I’m giving Clarke time to figure things out and I told her I’m here to help her through that process if she wants it.”

Anya nodded, thinking out loud, “I don’t want you to get hurt waiting for this girl, though, okay? If you start feeling like she’s playing with your feelings, you have to protect you. Agreed?”

I sighed heavily, but I knew Anya was right. “Agreed,” I mirrored.

“Did she seem like she was okay with still being friends and hanging out?”

“Yeah, she actually asked if I had any time this week to do anything since we’re both on break from school.”

“Perfect, so when are we all hanging out so I can make sure she’s the right girl for you? Even if she’s not sure yet.”

I rolled my eyes again. “You’ve already met her, Ahn, jeez. We were all on the same team. You didn’t make your assessments last spring?”

“No, because, despite the obvious heart eyes you had whenever you were around her, _I trusted you_ when you told me you were just friends,” Anya said pointedly.

“We _were_ just friends!” I defended, “We still are, technically.”

Anya scoffed, “Oh yeah, right. You couldn’t stop talking about her after that first night when she brought you home when I missed that tournament. When you told me she knew all the constellations on the glow in the dark stars on your bedroom ceiling I knew you were a goner, you big dork.”

=====================================================================================

**March 2008**

Clarke blasted the heat in her truck and I held my hands up to the vent to try and warm my fingers faster. Her radio was tuned to the local top 40 station and ‘Disturbia’ was bumping from the speakers. I joked, “This is definitely not low blood pressure music, huh?”

Clarke laughed, smiling but focusing on the road as she pulled out of the parking lot. “That’s not fair, this is just the radio! No judging my music tastes based on this!”

“Fair point. Fine, fine, I won’t judge. When do I get to flip through your iPod, then?” I responded, forcing myself not to stare at the girl as she drove.

“Tonight if you want to? I can grab it when we get to my house,” she shrugged, smiling as she added “Or maybe I should make you wait. Add a little intrigue.”

“I clearly already find you intriguing, Clarke, or else I wouldn’t have agreed to spend the evening with you.” I pointed out.

“And here I only thought you liked me for my dashing good looks.”

“Yes, your dashing good looks and your modesty,” I quickly retorted. She didn’t have to know that I did actually find her gorgeous.

“And my truck, probably,” she patted the dashboard lovingly and I chuckled.

We pulled into a nice neighborhood where large houses sat on perfectly manicured lawns. Clarke pulled into a long driveway with a basketball hoop. Her two brothers were wrestling on the lawn as we pulled in. She shut off the engine and jumped out of the truck yelling over to the boys “What are you goobers doing?”

“Wrestling!” a small red headed boy shouted gleefully, despite the fact that he was pinned to the grass and clearly losing to his older sibling.

“Aden, Artie, this is Lexa. She plays on the Warriors with me. Lexa, these are my brothers Artie and Aden,” Clarke going through introductions and pointing out her brothers to me.

“Hi!” both the boys waved from their position on the ground, frozen mid-tussle.

I waved back, smiling as I said, “Hey there. Yeah, Clarke was nice enough to drive me home after the tournament today.”

They suddenly glanced at each other, smirking.

“You’re the other goalie, right?” the older of the two, Artie, asked.

I nodded.

“What’re you two smiling about?” Clarke asked

“Artie and I said we bet you…” Aden began but Artie stuck a hand over his mouth before he could finish.

“Nothing,” he interrupted and then pulled his hand quickly away shouting “Hey! No biting!”

“Whatever, weirdos. No killing each other. I’m sleeping over at Lexa’s tonight, I just needed to pick up some stuff,” Clarke informed them as they went back to tumbling around on the grass. She shrugged, “C’mon, let’s go grab my stuff. Are you okay if I shower before we go?” We walked in through the garage and kicked off our shoes in the laundry room.

“Yeah, sure, or you could shower at my house. We have a hot tub, so we could rinse off and go in there first. If you want, I mean…” I rambled, trailing off. _That’s weird, Lexa, the hot tub is a weird thing to suggest with someone you just met._

“Oh, sweet. Yeah, let’s do that!” Clarke beamed, excited. I smiled back, my mouth going a little dry at the prospect of being in close proximity to a scantily-clad Clarke who I already found extremely hot in fifteen pounds of goalie gear. _Wait, what? Be cool, Lexa, come on._ Oblivious to my internal turmoil, the blonde threw open the door to the rest of the house and yelled “The favorite child is home!”

Clarke’s parents looked up, laughing, from the kitchen where they were cooking something that smelled delicious. I looked around the house curiously as we entered. It was large but felt homey, with sweatshirts draped over the back of the sofa and school pictures of the three kids hung on the walls.

“Mom, Dad, this is Lexa. She was the other goalie with me on the team today.”

I stuck out my hand to shake Clarke’s parents’ in turn. “Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Griffin. You have a lovely home,” I said sincerely.

“Nice to meet you, Lexa,” Clarke’s mother smiled, adding “Will you be staying for dinner tonight?”

Clarke answered, “Nah, we were going to head over to Lexa’s but I wanted to grab some things. Is it okay if I stay at Lexa’s tonight?”

“Will Lexa’s parents be home? And are they aware of how daunting a task feeding you is?” Clarke’s dad asked, joking with his daughter.

“My father is at work right now but he’ll be home later tonight. He left money for takeout for me, so dinner shouldn’t be a problem, sir,” I assured him.

“Sounds good to me. And you can just call me Jake. Or Mr. Griffin if that’s more comfortable for you. Any objections with Clarke staying over, Abby?” he said, turning to stir the contents of a pot and looking over to his wife.

“Nope, have fun!” she said smiling, then quickly adding, “But not too much fun. No alcohol or boys.” She pointed her finger at Clarke in mock accusation.

“No ma’am,” Clarke saluted, laughing and grabbing my hand to pull me out of the kitchen. We ran into the front hallway, up the stairs, and finally along the hallway to the door that must lead into Clarke’s bedroom. My heart was hammering and not because of the running.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” the blonde joked, dropping my hand to push the door open, “Sorry it’s a mess. I didn’t expect company,”

My immediate impression was a swirl of colors. Clarke’s walls were covered in painted canvases, sketches, and illustrations. There was so much artwork on the walls that I had to really look in order to find an uncovered space to know what color the walls had originally been—a bright emerald green that looked familiar. There were clothes on the floor, but I got the impression that her space was well organized. It looked lived-in and comfortable. Her desk in one corner was covered in art supplies—pens, colored pencils, watercolors, a shoebox full of acrylic paint tubes, an old coffee can filled with brushes, bristle side up. There was an easel in the corner and the pieces clicked into place.

“You didn’t tell me that you’re an artist, Clarke,” I said, turning to the girl who was rummaging in her closet for a duffel.

“Huh?” she said, turning around to face me and seeing my line of vision to the pile of art supplies. “Oh, I don’t know if I would say I’m an artist, but I love painting and drawing. Have ever since I was a kid,” she shrugged nonchalantly.

“Are all of these yours?” I asked, gesturing at the surrounding walls.

“Most of them, yeah. I have a great aunt that does a lot of stuff with pen and ink. A few of her things are over by the bookshelf. The rest are mostly mine, though,” she replied and I could see her cheeks were turning pink.

“I’m sorry to be invading your space. Do you mind if I look at them?” I asked gently, wondering why the girl seemed embarrassed by her obvious talent.

“No, no, it’s cool. Go ahead,” her blue eyes met mine and she smiled. “You must have a pretty nice house then, huh?”

“What?” I said, distracted by the hammering in my chest, I turned to examined the closest canvas—an oil painting of a forest at twilight.

“You guys have a hot tub?” she prompted.

“Oh, that. Uhh, I guess. The house is okay. I didn’t grow up there. We moved when I was in middle school. It’s just me and my father and he’s gone a lot. Mostly it’s… quiet.” _Empty. Lonely. Not home._ Those were all more appropriate descriptors, but I didn’t say any of that. Instead I changed the subject back to the art on the walls, “These are incredible, Clarke. I love all of these forest scenes.” I gestured to the space on the wall nearest me that housed not only the canvas I had been admiring, but a number of charcoal sketches of trees, and a more abstract watercolor of a dark figure standing in a forest clearing.

She smiled as she came to stand next to me, “I did those pretty recently actually. I finished that watercolor last week. I had a dream about meeting a girl in the forest, but she never turned around and I could never see her face. She umm… never mind,” she trailed off, her cheeks pink again.

“What?” I asked softly, turning around to face her and only then realizing how close together we were standing.

“Nothing, it’s just… the girl in the dream reminds me of you. But I didn’t really know you yet. Sorry, that’s a weird thing to admit,” she apologized, fiddling with the strap on the bag in her hands and looking back to the watercolor.

“No, it’s not. Who knows, maybe we knew one another in a past life, Clarke,” I smiled gently, grabbing her hand and immediately getting nervous about having done so.

She smiled back at me, squeezing my hand, and nodded, “Maybe we did, Lexa.”

=====================================================================================

A few hours later, we had a pint of Ben and Jerry’s between us, sitting on the granite-topped island in my kitchen. Both of us had wet hair from showering after the hot tub (she only caught me staring at her twice and once I played it off that she had a fuzz in her hair) and we bumped hands as we reached to dig our spoons into the “Phish Food” at the same time. Clarke playfully batted at my spoon with hers.

“Haha, hey!” I laughed, bumping my shoulder into hers. I had no idea if Clarke was “into” girls or if she was just physically affectionate in all of her friendships, but as the day had progressed I was certainly becoming more and more comfortable with physical contact with the blonde.

“So, when is your dad supposed to be home?” Clarke asked, curiously. It was already 8 pm. I forgot that most parents didn’t work this late on random Saturdays.

“I don’t know. He had a bunch of meetings today, so he probably went out for drinks with clients after…” I said, tensely, adding “I didn’t mean to lie to your dad earlier. I really did think he would be home a while ago.”

Clarke shrugged. “Eh, it’s all good. He said it was okay that I was here though, even though I’ve never met him? I could be getting you into all sorts of trouble, young lady,” she laughed waggling her eyebrows and bumping into my shoulder playfully.

“No alcohol or boys,” I pointed at her, mimicking Clarke’s mom’s earlier jest.

“I don’t know why she always says that. I’m not really into the whole partying scene and I’ve never even had a boyfriend,” she laughed.

“Really? No boys?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant although this piece of information made my heart soar. _Just because she hasn’t had a boyfriend doesn’t mean she’s gay too. Or that she’d even like you._

“Nope, never. Not unless you count my preschool boyfriend, Finn Collins. We kissed in the sandbox,” the blonde smirked, popping more ice cream into her mouth.

“Oh I absolutely count Finn Collins, and I’m offended that you wouldn’t,” I quipped, smiling widely at the girl.

“Haha, oh yeah? Well what about you, Miss Woods. Any scandalous playground trysts with the boys? Or more recent trysts too, I guess?” Clarke nudged me again.

I held my breath. Here was the moment where I decided whether to come out to this cute, nice, hilarious girl, to test this new friendship, or to wait. I was at that awkward stage in my sexuality where I was confident with who I was and people closest to me knew that I was gay, but where it still felt momentously terrifying to come out to anyone new. _Especially someone this brand new, who I really wanted as a friend._ _And maybe had a budding crush on. Well, here goes nothing._

“No, no boys. But I’m gay, so…” I trailed off, trying to sound like I hadn’t just had an internal debate about whether to utter those last few words.

“Oh, okay. Well, any trysts with girls then?” Clarke pivoted without batting an eye.

I let out the breath I didn’t know I had been holding. I couldn’t believe she was being so cool about it, just like that. “Uhh, there was this girl in middle school but it… wasn’t serious. And I dated a girl last year, Niylah, for a month or two,” I shrugged.

“Oooo experienced,” Clarke teased.

“Hardly,” I laughed, surprised again with how easy it was to talk with the girl.

“Does your dad know?” Clarke asked softly.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding, again not eager to talk about anything regarding family. Especially this. I stared ahead, trying to train my voice to sound impassive, “He’s better about it now. He wasn’t at first though.”

Clarke rested a gentle hand on my knee and I looked over into those blue eyes, filled with understanding. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I was just curious and I didn’t want to accidentally say anything in front of him if he didn’t know.”

I was moved by her consideration and smiled over at the girl. “I really appreciate that, thank you. You want to watch a movie or something?”

“One condition—we get to bring the ice cream with us.”

=====================================================================================

The empty tub of Ben and Jerry’s on my night stand and movie finished, we settled into bed. My father still hadn’t come home, but it was approaching 1 am and we were both exhausted from the tournament that day. As Clarke settled next to me in my queen size bed I flipped off the light.

“Ooo, nice! You didn’t tell me you’re a space geek too,” Clarke whispered, pointing up at the constellations decorating my ceiling.

“Why are you whispering, Clarke?” I laughed, adding, “And, yeah, I used to look at the night sky with my mom a lot. She taught me all about the constellations—their names, their stories.” The pang of sadness that always accompanied my happy memories of times with my mother clenched in my chest.

“Sorry, I’m used to having to worry about keeping other people up when I’m sleeping at someone’s house. And that’s like me and my dad. He used to drive us up to a nearby hill on clear summer nights, just me and him. He’d lay out a blanket in the bed of the pickup I have now and we would look at the stars for hours until I would fall asleep and he’d drive us back home and tuck me into bed. He taught me all about the constellations too. That’s incredible that you replicated them so closely in here. It’s just like staring at the sky. That must have been quite the project.”

I smiled at the blonde’s story, watching her out of the corner of my eye as I spoke. “It was. But it was something to dive into after we moved into this house. My old bedroom ceiling was like that too. My mom did it with me in that house, though.”

“You must miss her,” Clarke said and I could feel her rolling onto her side to look at me.

I mirrored her action, and this time I was the one who whispered, “I do.” _Every day._

Clarke reached for my hand and tangled our fingers together. I smiled at the contact and we lay there in comfortable silence for a little while. I watched Clarke’s eyes trace my features in the pale light of the moon that filtered through my window.

“You’re different than I expected, Lexa,” Clarke finally whispered into the silence.

“How so, Clarke?” I replied, searching for meaning in her eyes.

“You’re just… different than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“In a bad way?”

“No, in a brave way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another huge and enthusiastic thank you to everyone who has read, left kudos, and particularly to those who have commented! I really love hearing what you all think about everything, directions you want the story to go, characters you want to see more (or less) of, or whatever is on your mind after a chapter! I really enjoy reading and responding to comments and it definitely motivates me to keep working on this! Thanks!


	7. The Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang has a movie night at Harper's after a weekend practice and some unintentional stimulation turns intentional.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Smut ahead. Warned you it would inevitably get there. *shrugs*

**February 2009**

“We’re going over to Harper’s after practice for a movie tonight. You in?” Raven asked as she pushed the ball to me.

“Yeah! Clarke already invited me, actually. She was going to drive me,” I replied as I cleared the ball crisply back to the girl, looking up to see a smirk dance across her features.

“Ahh, I should have known you two would be coming together. The inseparable goalie ‘friends’,” Raven teased, putting air quotes around the last word.

“Oh, shut up,” I huffed, kicking the next ball back to her harder in annoyance.

She stopped it with more of a bounce off her stick than normal, “Easy there, killer. I’m just saying. I’m happy you two have worked out whatever was going on. As sickening as your incessant flirting is, I like you both better when you’re happy. And you clearly make each other happy.”

I stopped the ball she lifted towards me, easily deflecting it away, and put my hands to my hips. “Clarke and I do _not_ flirt incessantly. You just misread the witty banter we have,” I defended.

“Call it want you want, Lexa,” Raven laughed, “And maybe _you_ are just ‘bantering’, but Clarke’s been my best friend since practically diapers. If you think I don’t know exactly what that girl’s flirting looks like…” she trailed off, one eyebrow cocked in challenge at me.

At that moment Clarke walked up, handing me my water bottle she had been refilling for me as she refilled her own. “Here you are, Commander,” she quipped, then looking from me to Raven asked, “What are we talking about?”

“The movie tonight at Harper’s,” Raven quickly covered, to my relief. Although Raven still teased me relentlessly, since the incident with Ontari, she had toned down the teasing in front of Clarke. I didn’t know if Clarke had talked to Raven about her feelings or if the girl had just picked up on what must have happened, but I was grateful nonetheless. In the midst of trying to figure out my own sexuality, I remembered being particularly sensitive to things like that. Even if they were from friends and I knew that they were said out of love or in jest.

Lost in my thoughts, Clarke hip checked me and I stumbled sideways.

“Hey! What was that for?” I asked, pouting at the blonde next to me.

“I was just saying I was taking you tonight and you were zoned out. You thinking through battle strategies up there, Commander?” the girl laughed, tapping my temple with one finger.

I leaned to dodge her finger. “That’s classified information. I don’t know if you’ve proven trustworthy enough yet,”

“Hmm above my rank, huh? As a lowly ambassador I don’t get to know these things?”

I looked her up and down as if considering. “No, Ambassador, you could still be an enemy spy. You haven’t passed the full background check,” I stage whispered, a look of mock skepticism on my features.

“Oh yeah? And what does a full background check entail?” Clarke leaned in to actually whisper into my ear, her lips momentarily brushing against the sensitive skin. I audibly gulped, biting my lower lip.

“Griffin! Woods!” Indra shouted, snapping her fingers in our direction from the other end of the court, “We’re starting the next drill over here if you would be so kind as to join us!”

We both jolted away from one another, embarrassed, and called simultaneously “Sorry, coach! Coming!” as we ran over towards the team.

Raven shook her head, giving me a look that screamed _I told you so_.

=====================================================================================

Sweaty and chilled from practice, we stopped at Clarke’s house so we could both get showers before heading over to Harper’s. Clarke’s parents and brothers were gone for the weekend—Arti had a lacrosse tournament somewhere in upstate New York—so the house was unusually quiet when we walked in. Clarke looked slightly put-off by this. While I was used to being alone while my dad was on business trips, I wondered if Clarke had ever stayed home alone before.

“You okay?” I asked, nudging her shoulder gently.

“What? Oh, yeah… I’m just used to everyone being here, you know. It’s a little weird,” she admitted, looking sheepish.

“I bet. Being alone takes getting used to,” I mumbled. It sounded bitterer than I had intended.

“Oh, yeah. I’m sorry, Lex. I feel stupid. I shouldn’t complain about this one weekend,” Clarke’s blue eyes caught mine and she bit her lip, worried.

“No, don’t apologize. I wasn’t trying to make this a competition. I just know it really sucks sometimes, not having people around,” I responded, instinctively putting my hand on her shoulder as I looked into her eyes.

Clarke smiled sadly, then reasoned, “Yeah, but at least we get to hang out for most of the night!”

I nodded, smiling back at the girl. I wanted to offer to stay over so she wouldn’t have to be alone for the night, but didn’t want to overstep bounds with her parents not being home. “Showers?” I asked, adding, “I’m freezing and I smell like a foot.”

We made our way upstairs slowly, sore from practice. “I wasn’t going to say anything but…” Clarke’s eyes twinkled as she scrunched up her nose.

“Haha, like you smell like a bed of roses?” I joked, smacking her arm playfully as I dropped my backpack with a change of clothes into her room.

“I am a _lady_ ,” the blonde intoned in an exaggerated (and very poor) British accent, “I smell like a soft whisper of butterfly kisses.”

“You keep telling yourself that, stinky. Can I borrow a towel?”

“Yeah, yeah, c’mon. I’ll use the shower in my parent’s room and you can use the hall bath, okay? That way we can get ready quicker.”

Clarke handed me a spare towel, showed me how to get the water to a perfect temperature, and disappeared down the hall.

I quickly undressed and got into the warm spray, relieved to finally be warming up and rinsing the sweat off me. Although I could have lingered and enjoyed the warmth, I showered relatively quickly, turning off the water to squeeze out my wet hair and wrap myself in the fluffy towel. The scent of the fabric softener instantly reminded me of curling up in Clarke’s sheets next to the girl, which inevitably led my mind to the kiss we had shared in that bed.

Although things with Clarke had been progressively more normal as time had passed, and I could tell she was becoming more comfortable with the idea of us being more than friends, we hadn’t kissed again. Despite my earlier denial to Raven, I was certainly aware that we flirted almost constantly and there had been plenty of lingering touches and moments of close proximity that made me want to pull the blonde into a kiss. But I also didn’t want to make the girl uncomfortable or push her outside of her comfort zone before she was ready. It didn’t mean I didn’t fantasize about kissing Clarke. Often. Lost in these thoughts, I realized vaguely that I had left my change of clothes in Clarke’s room and walked down the hall wrapped in my towel. I flung open the bedroom door, intending on grabbing my backpack and bringing it back to the bathroom so I could change. But as the door opened my eyes fell on Clarke, right on the other side of the door, stark naked, blonde locks wrapped in a towel on top of her head. In that split second, my eyes did a quick up-down of her body. Clarke was fucking gorgeous.

“Hey!” Clarke yelped, shocked, turning around and bending down to grab the closest piece of clothing off the floor in an attempt to cover herself, giving me a perfect view of her bare ass.

I knew my mouth was wide open (and suddenly incredibly dry) but I managed to stutter “Shit! Sorry!” and pulled the door closed abruptly. _Oh. My. God._

“What the hell, Lexa?! You don’t knock?”

“I thought you were still in the shower! I’m _so_ sorry!” I apologized, resting my forehead against the door, mortified but also insanely turned on by how drop-dead gorgeous Clarke’s body was.

“You didn’t notice the door was suddenly closed?” she asked skeptically.

“No, sorry, I was… distracted…” _Because I was thinking about kissing you. And now that I’ve seen THAT I’m thinking about more than just kissing you._ I felt a warm, tingling sensation rush over me. “Why didn’t you lock it?” I groaned. I didn’t need _more_ mental images to get me all hot and bothered around Clarke. It wasn’t her fault, but still.

“I didn’t think you’d just bust in like that!” Clarke defended, “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be, you’re beautiful,” slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. _Oh. My. God. What the hell is wrong with you, you idiot._

There was silence from the other side of the door and I was instantly formulating an escape plan. I could change back into my sweaty clothes, call a cab, and never have to show my extremely pink face again. That could work. Suddenly the door swung open and I stumbled forward; my forehead had still been pressed against the surface. I immediately brought my hands to my face both to cover my eyes and to hide my blush.

Clarke laughed quietly. “I’m dressed now, you can look… and… you really think that?” she asked shyly.

I peeked through my fingers to see her fully dressed in sweatpants and a tight-fitting, light blue tank top. It brought out the color of her eyes. I looked into those eyes as I lowered my hands and bit my lip nervously. “Of course, Clarke. I think you’re stunning. And not just because of… umm… what I just saw. Although that was certainly flawless too,” I rambled nervously, grabbing the back of my neck.

Clarke looked away, blushing. “I… thanks, Lex,” she murmured.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to make you more uncomfortable. I can just get changed and go home, okay? I’ll text Raven and say that I don’t feel good or something and…” but my babbling was abruptly interrupted by Clarke slamming her lips into mine.

It was a hard, bruising, needy kiss that I quickly reciprocated. Clarke’s hands were on me instantly. One at the back of my neck, her fingers tangling in my wet hair, pulling me closer in and the other resting gently on my cheek. I brought my hands to her waist, one of my thumbs tucking under her tank to play across the patch of sensitive skin right above the waistband of her sweats. I felt her hum into the kiss at the contact and I smiled against her lips, nipping at her lower lip and swiping my tongue across it. She pulled back gently and pressed our foreheads together, breathing heavily. I looked into her eyes, her pupils blown, my heart hammering in my chest and a definite wetness between my legs that had nothing to do with the shower.

“I’m not uncomfortable and I don’t want you to go, Lexa,” Clarke husked, her fingers tracing along my jaw, “But… if we keep kissing like this I’m going to want to do a whole lot more, we’ll be late for Harper’s, and Raven will tease us mercilessly.”

I chuckled, “I think this might be worth dealing with the teasing, but fair point. Where was my backpack?” I asked, turning my head to look around the room but not willing to sacrifice the close proximity with the girl, my hands still on those hips. She kissed my jawline lightly and I had the definite urge to catch those lips on mine again. As I turned to meet her she pulled back, teasing, and nodded over to the corner where I had left my backpack. I laughed, squeezing my grip on her hips and pushing off her as I turned and went to grab the bag.

As I headed to the door to change in the bathroom, Clarke cocked an eyebrow at me and asked “What, I don’t get to see you?”

“Maybe later, if you’re lucky,” I replied, not sure where that cockiness had come from, but enjoying the look it elicited from Clarke. I quickly made my way to the bathroom before she could respond and shut the door behind me. _Hooo-lyyyy shit._

=====================================================================================

Between Raven, Octavia, Harper, Clarke, and myself, we quickly polished off two large pizzas and an order of cheese bread in Harper’s kitchen. Clarke and I kept catching each other’s gaze and looking away quickly to avoid getting caught. I couldn’t help but smile to myself whenever it happened. We cleaned up the kitchen and made our way down to Harper’s basement—her parents were huge movie buffs and they had a home theater in a room in the basement, complete with theater seating.

“So what’re we watching?” I asked Raven.

“‘The Strangers’!” she said, excitedly.

“Wait… really?” I asked, panic setting in. I hated scary movies.

“Yeah, why? You haven’t seen it, have you?”

“Uh no…” they all seemed too excited for me to say anything, but I was not thrilled that I would be covering my ears and hiding my eyes for the next 90 minutes.

Clarke came over to me, throwing her arm around my shoulders. “I’m excited! I haven’t seen this yet!” she said, her grin fading as she saw my mortified face. “What’s up?” she asked.

“I… uhh… I don’t really like horror movies…” I mumbled under my breath.

“What? Really?” Clarke laughed, “But you’re such a badass!”

“I can be a badass and not enjoy films designed to put terrifying images into people’s minds. Plus, how are you fine with watching this tonight of all nights?”

“What do you mean?” Clarke grabbed my hand, pulling me into the theater where the other girls were already getting settled. I immediately noticed that there was only one large reclining seat left in the front row. Clarke let go of my hand and dashed to sit in it, smirking.

“If you think I am sitting through this in the back row of seats by myself you have another thing coming,” I announced, walking over to her seat and squeezing in beside her despite the fact that the seat was built for one. We fit, but barely, and my thigh was pressed on top of Clarke’s. Raven was in the seat furthest down the row, but leaned forward to smirk at us and waggle her eyebrows. I just rolled my eyes but Clarke rebutted, “What? Lexa is a scaredy cat.”

“I still don’t know why you want to watch this when you’re going back to an empty house. It’s literally a movie about strangers breaking into someone’s house and torturing them,” I mumbled to Clarke.

“Hey! Way to ruin it for the rest of us!” Octavia jested, from the seat next to us in mock annoyance.

Harper shushed our continued bickering as she turned off the lights and started the movie. I immediately felt Clarke relax and lean into me, resting her hand on my thigh. My stomach fluttered and not because of my nerves surrounding the movie. Once the necessary background was out of the way and the suspenseful music started, my hands covered my ears and I clamped my eyes shut. Something jumped and Octavia screamed. I felt Clarke’s body jolt beside me and she gripped my thigh making me jump too. Despite my fear of what was going on onscreen, Clarke’s grasp was turning me on and I bit my lip and opened my eyes a sliver to glance over at the girl. In the glow of the screen I could see her eyes were wide and trained onto whatever horrors were befalling Liv Tyler and Scott Speedman. _She’s just reacting to the movie. No need to get all hot and bothered._

But with every horror that occurred onscreen, Clarke inched her hand further and further up my thigh and her fingers were now tracing patterns idly overtop my sweatpants. My legs pushed into hers as my thighs parted unconsciously with her ministrations and I could have sworn I caught a glimmer of a smirk on those lips. _Okay so maybe she’s not just reacting to the movie._ I reluctantly took one hand away from my ears and grabbed the hand on my thigh, interlacing our fingers and moving it away from its teasing position. Though her eyes were still trained on the screen, I saw her raise her eyebrows and bite her bottom lip. As much as I wanted Clarke to continue what she was doing, the risk of me letting out some involuntary sound or Octavia looking over and seeing Clarke’s hand was too real. Particularly if Clarke wandered any higher up or pressed with real intention. Despite the rational side of my brain that pointed out all of the reasons this shouldn't happen right now, I could feel the wetness between my legs at the thought that Clarke's actions were intentional and I squirmed a little in the seat we shared.

“You cold? Want me to get us a blanket?” Clarke whispered in my ear, her lips brushing that same sensitive skin they had earlier, sending another shiver of arousal through my body. Despite the fact that I was practically sweating, I nodded and Clarke snuck around the back of the seats to grab a throw from a basket in the corner of the room. She threw it over our laps as she sat down, immediately putting her hand back on my thigh and pulling it onto her lap, making me shift slightly sideways. Between my upper body and the blanket’s positioning, there was no chance of anyone catching Clarke’s hand as it slid up my thigh with more purpose now. She abandoned her pretense of looking at the screen and looked into my wide eyes, asking wordlessly if this was okay. I nodded, almost imperceptibly.

With that, I felt her fingers slowly inching towards the seam in my sweatpants. Maddeningly, she stopped before touching me where I really wanted it. She dragged her fingers along the crease of my groin up to the waistband of my sweats, drawing delicate patterns on the skin of my hipbone. I squirmed in my seat, aching for her to stop teasing and to just touch me. She dipped under the waistband of my sweatpants, still above my boyshorts, and the backs of her nails dragged down, closer and closer. I let out a little whimper and I was silently thankful at that moment for the loud, dramatic soundtracks in horror films. I couldn’t take the teasing anymore and I shifted my hips so that Clarke’s fingers pressed over my clit through the fabric, biting my hand to keep from moaning. I watched Clarke’s blue eyes widen and she bit her lower lip as her hand dipped lower; I knew she could feel the growing wet spot between my legs. I shifted my hips again, trying to get some friction on my clit. Clarke finally obliged, the pads of her middle and forefinger resting at either side of the bundle of nerves. She made slow circles at first and I could feel how tentative she was, now that she was doing more than just exploring and teasing. One hand still in my mouth to stifle any sounds, I slipped the other hand surreptitiously under the blanket and into my sweatpants with Clarke’s. I guided her hand to press in the right way and sped up her pace and, after so much teasing, my orgasm hit me suddenly. I held Clarke’s hand against me as I contracted around nothing and I heard a whimper escape her lips at feeling me spasm against her.

I was vaguely aware that the room had gotten darker and looked up to see credits rolling across a dark screen.

“Well that was scary as shit. I’m not sleeping for a week. What about you guys?” Octavia asked the group at large from the chair beside me.

“Same. I’ll be sleeping with my lights on and my field hockey stick next to my bed,” Harper agreed, adding, “What about you, Lexa? What did you think?”

Clarke and I had been in the middle of trying to extract our hands from my pants without attracting attention and we both froze. I cleared my throat, “I don’t know I had my eyes closed and my ears covered for most of it…” I trailed off, trying to dodge the question.

“Oh come on, you didn’t have them covered the whole time. I saw you with your hand over your mouth at the end. Did you at least watch the end?” Octavia pressed.

Thankful that it was dark enough to hide my beet red ears and that Octavia clearly had no clue why I’d taken my hands from my ears, I stammered, “Uh… yeah… the end was… good.” I glanced over at Clarke who looked equally sheepish, fighting back giggles at my words. As the other girls went back to conversing about the movie, we finally slipped our hands from my pants. Before she could pull her hand away, I interlaced our fingers and rested our hands on my thigh that still draped across her legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this one. There is potential for more smutty smut ahead (I mean, Clarke's family is out of town, Lexa has a built-in excuse to stay over, and THAT just happened...) so if there's interest in that, be sure to comment and let me know! Otherwise, on to more plot!
> 
> And as always a big thank you to everyone who has been reading, subscribed, followed and especially commented. I have been blown away by the support for this so far, so thank you all. I really do love hearing what you guys are enjoying/not digging in each chapter!


	8. Fire and Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 50% plot, 50% smut, 100% Clexa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Lexa has a panic attack in the first half of this chapter. If you find reading about panic attacks triggering or upsetting, feel free to scroll to the "========" break to avoid that.  
> Also, it's mainly smut following that break, so if that's not your thing, consider yourself forewarned.

**February 2009**

Everyone thoroughly done with scary movies for the night, Harper flipped to ABC Family where Gilmore Girls reruns were playing. We had all moved to the floor and were mostly chatting over the background noise. Clarke and I were no longer squeezed into each other’s space and I missed the contact. I was having trouble keeping track of the conversation, my eyes and my thoughts kept turning to Clarke and what had just happened. Luckily, Octavia and Raven were engrossed in trying to get Harper to admit she had a crush on some boy they all went to school with. Raven didn’t even notice my staring and the conversation required very little from me or Clarke. Which was good, really, because she seemed to be following the discussion about as closely as I was and kept having to bite her lip to stop from giggling when we made eye contact.

It hit 11 PM and, like clockwork, Harper’s mom appeared in the basement to “remind us not to break curfew”. From the other times I had hung out with this gang, this seemed to be a common occurrence, yet I still found it both comical and endearing. Maybe because the concept of having a curfew was so foreign to me, but also because it seemed to always be the mothers who did the reminding. _Mom probably would have done the same thing, if she were here._

Clarke was standing above me, suddenly, holding out her hand to help me up. I saw her mouth moving and only then realized she was talking to me.

“Sorry… what?” I stammered, shaking my head to try and rid myself of the “if” from that last thought that was now echoing in my head.

“C’mon, space cadet, we’re being kicked out,” Raven joked, already in the doorway.

Clarke grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet, looking concerned. As everybody else was thumping up the stairs, she whispered, “you okay, Lex?”

I nodded, slightly embarrassed that I had let something so trivial affect me like that. She still held my hand and I smiled, checking over her shoulder that everyone was gone and leaning in to plant a chaste kiss on her lips. She smiled into the kiss and my stomach fluttered. Just seeing Clarke’s smile had made that happen from the day I met her, but feeling her smile against my lips might just be my new favorite thing. _Well, closely contested with what happened in that chair, earlier._ Though I knew I wanted more and Clarke seemed to as well, we quickly broke the kiss and walked out of the room, our fingers still interlaced.

Raven, of course, gave this an eyebrow waggle when we reached the front hallway. We thanked Mrs. McIntyre and said goodbye to Harper as we all slipped on our shoes and jackets and headed out into the chilly night air. As soon as we stepped outside, my insides froze. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground and more was falling. I stood on the front stoop of the McIntyre’s house feeling like my feet were cement and I could feel the panic rising in my chest. Clarke, who was still holding my hand had tried to keep walking but quickly turned around when she realized I hadn’t moved.

“Did you forget something…” Clarke started, trailing off when she saw the fear in my eyes. She looked confused for a moment and then understanding hit her just as a snowball did. Octavia and Raven had started throwing snowballs our direction, giggling and running around. I barely felt one hit my chest but I watched it bounce off me, fall to the pavement, and break apart as if in slow motion. My knees were wobbly and I was suddenly sitting on the front step. The pain in my chest was unbearable. I felt sweat on my forehead but I was shaking. I only vaguely registered that it was cold and that the wet snow was soaking through the back of my sweatpants. Clarke was yelling something at Raven and Octavia, but I couldn’t tell what. I was too busy trying to get oxygen into my lungs. In the recesses of my brain, I heard a voice. _You’re having a panic attack, just try and breathe. You’ll be okay. I’m here, Lexa. Just try and breathe._ It sounded like Clarke, but Clarke was still turned away from me, yelling at Raven and Octavia. Through the panic, I felt the strangest sensation of déjà vu. I had heard Clarke tell me those words before but I couldn’t for the life of me remember when. She had never seen me have a panic attack before.

Suddenly the blonde really was in front of me, kneeling there so she was on my level, in the present moment. I tried to focus on her blue eyes. And it was present Clarke that intoned these words in front of me now, “You’re having a panic attack, just try and breathe. You’ll be okay. I’m right here, Lexa. I’m right here. You’re safe. You’re okay.” I reached out and grabbed her hands and she rubbed her thumbs soothingly over mine, repeating variations of her words like a mantra. Eventually the pain in my chest faded slightly and I sucked in the cold air, my heart still hammering. There were tears in my eyes and I was suddenly aware of Raven and Octavia standing behind Clarke, concern etched on their features. I quickly tried to wipe my eyes on my jacket sleeve.

Clarke let me, releasing my hands, and asking quietly, “You want to walk around for a minute?” I nodded and she gave me her hand to help me up, her thumb rubbing soothing circles again as we walked down the driveway and down the street a little ways. White wisps disappeared into the cold night air with each breath of air from our lips as we walked in silence.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled as soon as my throat loosened enough to talk.

“Don’t apologize, Lexa. I understand, I really do. I’m sorry that this happened. Do you… do you get them a lot?” Clarke asked gently.

I shook my head. “I used to. Right after… I haven’t in a while though,”

I saw Clarke nod in my periphery. We walked in silence for a little bit, heading back towards Raven and O who were still huddled by the front door. Harper had joined them and they were all conversing in hushed tones. I was embarrassed. I’m sure my panic, to them, was a complete mystery. Although Clarke seemed to understand, even she knew only the abbreviated version as to why walking out into a winter wonderland would elicit that response. I didn’t have the emotional energy to explain even the condensed account to the rest of the girls tonight.

“Do you want me to ask Harper’s mom if we can stay over so we don’t have to drive in this?” Clarke interrupted my thoughts, confirming her understanding of the root of my panic. I considered it, for a moment. But what I really wanted, even after all of this, was to be tangled up with the blonde in her bed.

I shook my head. “No, but can I come stay at your house?” I asked quietly. We stopped at the end of the driveway and faced each other, though I looked at Clarke’s shoes, still embarrassed at my vulnerability.

“Of course. I’ll drive really slowly and carefully, okay? I won’t let anything happen. I promise,” Clarke linked her pinky into mine and tipped my chin up with the other hand. Looking me in the eyes she brought her hand to her lips and kissed it, then pushing our linked hands towards my lips. I smiled and mirrored her action, childish though it was.

“Oww owwwww!” Raven catcalled from the stoop.

“Get a room!” Octavia echoed.

Harper immediately shushed the two of them and hissed “You’ll wake up my parents, you idiots.” As peevish as the teasing was, it relaxed me a little bit that they were acting normal even after seeing my breakdown. Clarke pulled me over to the trio.

“You okay, Woods?” Raven asked sincerely.

I nodded and started to apologize again but all three of the girls stopped me at once.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re just glad you’re okay,” Harper expressed putting a consoling hand on my shoulder.

“Thanks. I’m okay. It just… happens sometimes. You know?” I mumbled, uncomfortably.

“You’re good, dude, we’ve got your back. Although, as long as Clarke is around to take care of you, we’re probably unnecessary backup,” Octavia joked, winking.

I smiled, but awkwardly drew shapes in the snow with the toe of my converse sneaker. “Thanks, guys. But I’m okay and it’s freezing out here and I don’t want to make you all stand around any longer or actually miss your curfew,”

“Alright, alright. Come here though,” Raven pulled me into a tight hug, Octavia, Harper, and Clarke all joining in, making a huddle, “Drive safe, goodnight, and love you all.”

“Awwww, Ray! That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to us,” Octavia held her hand to her heart, “I’m touched!”

“Yeah, well. Don’t get used to it,” Raven mumbled, breaking out of the hug and heading towards her car with Octavia in tow.

Clarke and I walked down the driveway, turning to wave to Harper as she went back inside. We got into Clarke’s truck and I buckled myself in immediately, my fists clenched and knuckles white. The blonde grabbed my hand, kissing the knuckles.

“I promise I’ll drive slow and safe, okay, Lex. I won’t let anything bad happen.”

I knew only too well that, really, she couldn’t make that promise. Accidents happened all the time that we have no control over, no matter how carefully we approached life. But I trusted Clarke, still; more than I had trusted anyone. So I took a deep breath, let my body relax and I nodded at the blonde next to me as she turned the key in the ignition and the truck rumbled to a start.

=====================================================================================

Half an hour later, we were at Clarke’s house, safe and warm. We had triple-checked all the doors were locked before heading upstairs, ‘The Strangers’ still at the back of our minds despite everything that had happened since (and during) the movie. Clarke had given me a pair of her sweatpants to sleep in as mine had still been damp from sitting on the front stoop. I had already changed and now Clarke took her turn in the bathroom down the hall. I stood in her room, staring at the abstract watercolor of the dark-haired girl in the woods. I wasn’t religious, exactly, but I did believe in the idea of past lives or alternate timelines. It made sense to me that Clarke and I had met before. It explained the sense of easy trust between the two of us, my appearance in Clarke’s dream before we really met, and the strange sense of déjà vu I had gotten earlier tonight. It was curious, certainly, and I wondered in what circumstances we’d known one another before. Had we been friends or, like we were now, teetering on that edge between friendship and something more?

It was a minute before I noticed Clarke leaning against the doorway, watching me with a small smile. Her blonde locks were tied into a messy top-knot and she was wearing pajama shorts that showed off her pale thighs and an oversize tee shirt. The barely-there shadow of her nipples told me she wasn’t wearing a bra and I immediately bit my lip, the desire to touch Clarke overwhelming.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Clarke smirked as she asked, and I knew I hadn’t been subtle with the up-down I just gave her.

“Since I looked at you, or before I noticed you were standing there staring at me?” I clarified, biting my lower lip to fight back my own smirk.

“Your thoughts change tack that quickly, Commander?” Clarke quipped innocently.

“When you show up in a room looking like that, they certainly do, Clarke,” I smiled, moving slowly towards the girl. My hands pushed up the long tee shirt slightly, resting on the warm, smooth curve of her hips, pushing her gently back into the doorframe. She bit her lip for a moment, looking worried, and I backed up a little, concerned I’d overstepped. Before I could ask, Clarke spoke.

“You’re okay doing this tonight?” she asked softly, concern in every syllable, “I know earlier—the panic attack—it must have been a lot. I understand if you just want to go to sleep.”

“As long as you’re comfortable, this is what I want to be doing tonight,” I answered without hesitation. And it was true. Yes, the panic attack had been draining, but Clarke’s response had also been validating and kind and just what I needed. Everything that had happened tonight had just solidified my desire for more with the girl. And, truth be told, I wanted pay her back in kind for my earlier orgasm.

Clarke shook me from my reverie, husking “This is what I want to be doing.”

I closed the space between our bodies as soon as I had verbal confirmation and kissed those lips. The kiss was controlled at first, gentle, and I could tell Clarke was nervous. Wanting to distract the girl from overthinking, I ran my thumbs along the soft skin just inside her hipbones as I had earlier that day, eliciting that same hum of need and satisfaction. I slipped my tongue slowly along her bottom lip, and suddenly our tongues were exploring, pressing and rolling against one another. Clarke tangled her fingers in my hair at the nape of my neck, her other hand snaking around my body to land on my ass. She pulled me in even closer and I slipped a thigh between her legs, smiling as a needy sound slipped from her throat, vibrating against my lips. The hand on my ass kneaded and tried to pull me still closer.

I broke away from those full lips, pressing messy kisses up her jawline, sucking lightly on the side of her throat. Light enough that I didn’t think it would leave a lasting mark, but enough to earn another hum of satisfaction from Clarke. I moved up to her ear, whispering “You want to move to the bed?” making sure my lips brushed the shell of her ear and nipping lightly at her earlobe to end the question. The blonde bit her bottom lip and nodded mutely. I leaned in to give her lips a quick peck, pulling away teasingly when she leaned in for more, and grabbing her hand. Pulling her the short distance to the bed, I grabbed her hips again and backed her up as I kissed her, harder now, so that she fell gently back when the back of her knees hit the mattress.  My heart pounding, unsure of what I was doing but so sure that this was what I wanted, I climbed onto the bed to straddle Clarke. Her hands settled on my thighs and our eyes met as I toyed with the hem of her tee shirt. Clarke nodded.

I had seen the girl naked earlier, but this was different. That was a (happy) accident. This was Clarke letting me take her clothes off. Heart hammering, I slid my hands up her sides tantalizingly slowly, letting the tee shirt bunch up and reveal pale skin inch by inch. The soft curve of her hipbones that elicited delicious noises from the blonde beneath me when fingers brushed over them. The slight definition of abs and finally reaching the bottom swell of her breasts. I brushed fingertips teasingly along the outside of Clarke’s tits for a moment, dragging the tee shirt up so I knew the fabric brushed against sensitive nipples. Clarke let out a whine, almost inaudible, squirming slightly under me and pressing into my own growing need. I inhaled sharply.

I knew I was teasing, but I also just wanted to drink in every inch of Clarke’s beauty, to study her reactions to every brush of my fingertips. Aware of her need and the building desire to see, to touch, to kiss, all of the blonde, I pulled the shirt gently over her head, tossing it to the side as I studied the girl beneath me.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Clarke,” the words spilled from my mouth as my hands pressed up her sides. I saw the girl blush and look away. I leaned down to capture her lips in an urgent kiss, one hand against the bed to support my weight, the other moving to her breasts. I squeezed and kneaded, letting my thumb brush over a nipple and smiling as a moan again vibrated against my lips. “I mean it, you know. You’re so fucking beautiful and I’m going to make you feel so fucking good. Okay?” I husked against her lips. She whined but nodded quickly. My thumb and forefinger pinched her nipple now, rolling it and feeling the bud peak and harden at my touch. I scooted my body down, settling myself to lay on top of Clarke, straddling one of her thighs and pressing my thigh into her center. She wriggled against it and pressed her thigh up into me, increasing my need.

I hungrily kissed my way down Clarke’s neck, chest, the tops of her breasts, kissing tantalizingly close to the nipple as the blonde squirmed beneath me. One of her hands was at the nape of my neck again and she pulled my mouth towards the nipple that begged for attention. I sucked it into my mouth, swiping my tongue over it and rolling it against the sensitive bud. Clarke’s head tipped back, biting her bottom lip she let out a stifled whine. I moved my mouth to the other nipple, replacing my fingers and allowing them to trace down Clarke’s side to the waistband of her shorts. I played with the sensitive skin there tentatively for a moment as my lips still lavished Clarke’s sensitive nipples with attention. Clarke’s hand was suddenly on my elbow, pushing my hand further down and I looked up to see her watching me through blown pupils. Our eyes connected, I slipped my hand below the waistband, still staying over her underwear. My heart pounding, I dipped my fingers lower between her legs. “Fuck, you’re wet,” I breathed out against her skin and my own clit gave a throb at the thought that I was the one that had done that to this stunning girl. Clarke pressed herself up into my hand, desperately trying to get some friction and I completely forgot about teasing the girl. I slid my fingers up where I could feel her swollen clit through the fabric and pressed my middle and index finger on either side, mirroring what she had tried earlier on me. I started with slow circles but her hips were hitching up in need, pressing her thigh against my swollen clit in turn. Spurred by my own arousal, my hips took up a strong, steady rhythm, grinding my center against Clarke’s thigh and pressing my fingers against the girl with more force as they made quicker circles.

“Fuck... Lexa, I… I’m gunna…” Clarke stammered out, her voice high, head thrown back, back arching slightly.

I felt it happen, the twitch of her pussy against my hand, and it pushed me over the edge. I bit down on the soft part of her breast, moaning against her as she continued to spasm against my fingers. My orgasm wasn’t as strong as the earlier one against Clarke’s fingers, but the satisfaction at having made the blonde climax was damn near as good.

“Hooo-lyyy shit,” Clarke breathed out when words seemed to have finally returned, her head still pressed back into the mattress. I gave a breathy laugh as we both lay there, catching our breath in the afterglow, Clarke playing with my hair. After a few moments I looked up to find her watching me with those deep blue eyes.

“You okay?” I whispered against her chest, with concern. I knew this was all new to Clarke and I didn’t want her to regret any decisions she made in the heat of the moment.

She smiled, “I would say more than just okay, Lexa. Yes. You okay?”

“Pretty damn perfect,” I replied, mirroring her smile and finally pulling my hand out from her pants.

“There’s one thing that would make this better,” the blonde added thoughtfully, looking down at me with a twinkle in her sapphire eyes.

“Oh yes, Clarke?” I asked, not sure if she was being serious.

“You naked,” the blonde replied, appearing completely serious.

I cocked my head to the side, pretending to be considering it for a moment. “I guess that’s fair,” I reasoned, kissing Clarke’s chest and sitting up so she could pull my shirt over my head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who voted for smut after the last chapter, I hope this lived up to your expectations. There's certainly room for more smut on the horizon of this fic, so let me know if you want more. With that, thanks to all of you who have commented so far and most especially those who have taken time to comment on multiple chapters. I do really appreciate the thoughtful responses, and I love hearing what you're enjoying and any ideas you have! Thanks for reading, subscribing, the kudos, and kind words. I am so happy that this is getting a positive response from you all and it makes me want to keep putting in time on it!


	9. Truth or Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang has a sleepover at Clarke's and Clarke has some big news to share.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long-ish wait on this chapter! I was traveling over the holidays and things got away from me for a bit. This chapter is basically all fluff, but enjoy!

**March 2009**

_Clarke: Plans this wknd?_

_Lexa: Nothing yet. Wat did you have in mind?_

_Clarke: Sleepover @ my house Fri night with the gang?_

_Lexa: Sounds fun to me._

_Clarke: Can I call?_

_Lexa: Ya, wats up?_

I closed my physics textbook as Clarke’s name popped up on the front screen of my phone.

“Hello, Clarke,” I smiled as I pressed the phone to my ear.

“Hey… so I want to tell them, Lex,” Clarke blurted out without preamble.

“You want to… wait… what?” I stammered, taking a second for me to catch up with her train of thought, and then “Oh! Oh, you want to tell Raven and O and Harper about us, you mean? Great! You’re sure, though?”

“I… I don’t know. I feel bad about lying to them…” Clarke trailed off.

“Hey, listen to me,” I started, “I don’t want you to do this until you are ready, okay? I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this or to feel pressure from me, or them, or anybody. It’s your decision. I’m fine keeping this between us until you feel like you’re ready.”

“I know. I’m sick of hiding it from them, though. Are you okay if we tell them?” the girl asked, worry in her voice.

“Absolutely, Clarke. I’m kind of crazy about you and I would be really happy to be able to hold your hand, to sit with you in my lap, to kiss you in front of our friends, and for them to know that we’re together. I know, minus the kissing, we kind of do all of that anyways,” I chuckled, “and given their incessant teasing, I don’t think they’ll be surprised. But I also get that it’s scary. I didn’t come out to any of them until a few months ago and I’ve had much longer to figure stuff out for myself. The good thing is, we’ve already seen how they reacted to finding out I’m gay. They all took it completely in stride and I’m sure they will do the same with you. I don’t think you have to worry about that, okay?” I reasoned, trying to calm her.

“I know… I guess… I don’t really know what I am yet, though?”

“You’re Clarke, Clarke. I know it makes it easier to have a label, but you don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

Clarke sighed, “I know. I just… I wish I knew.”

“I know. You will. You’ll figure it out, I promise, and I’ll help you if you want help. It just takes some time. But for now you’re Clarke and you have a girlfriend named Lexa who really, really likes you,” I soothed.

“Really, really, huh?” Clarke said, the smile ringing in her voice.

“Really, really,” I replied. My heart fluttered happily in my chest.

=====================================================================================

All clad in sweatpants and sweatshirts, the five of us girls sat in a circle on the floor in Clarke’s basement, bags of chips and soda cans peppered throughout the room. Octavia had just won the third round of “Bullshit” in a row, throwing her cards into the air in victory.

“52 pickup!” she yelled gleefully, a smug smile in place.

I grabbed handfuls of cards, laughing at the girl as Raven huffed, “Alright showoff, sit yourself down.”

“You’re just mad because you hate losing, Miss Overly-Competitive,” O retorted, sticking out her tongue.

“I am the perfect amount of competitive, thanks very much,” the darker girl pouted and crossed her arms defensively.

Seeing Octavia about to retort, Harper interrupted, “I’ve had enough of cards anyways. Let’s do something else. Any suggestions?” She looked expectantly at Clarke, seeing as it was her house.

Clarke was frowning, pulling at a loose thread at the hem of her Warriors sweatshirt, and didn’t appear to have registered Harper’s question. I nudged her gently, prompting, “What do you want to do, Clarke?”

Clarke hadn’t yet broken the big news to our friends that night and I could tell she was nervous and preoccupied. I knew how that felt—waiting for the “right” moment to come out to someone and the nerves in the time right before you decided to make that leap.

“Oh… uh sorry… I don’t know… what do you guys want to do?” she stammered out, the corners of her mouth hitching up into a smile I knew was a façade as she looked around at the others. Still busy picking up cards, Raven and Octavia didn’t seem to notice. Harper, however, looked over at me with an eyebrow cocked, silently asking if I knew what was up with the girl. I smiled and shrugged almost imperceptibly.

“Movie?” Raven suggested, her tone a little gruff, clearly still annoyed about being called out on being competitive.

“Ehh, it’s still early for that. I’d rather fall asleep to something later,” Clarke said, now engaged in the conversation.

“We could play another game?” I suggested, looking over at the cabinet where Clarke’s family kept their collection of board games.

“Twister?” Octavia suggested, waggling her eyebrows at Clarke.

“No, veto. Last time we played Twister my knee killed me for a week,” Raven complained, grabbing the last card off the ground and handing the deck back to Octavia. She thought for a second and, a devious grin spreading slowly across her face, proposed “How about truth or dare?”

I laughed, assuming she was kidding, but both Harper and Octavia agreed excitedly. “You’re serious? I didn’t know people played that in real life,” I scoffed.

“Woods, you have _got_ to get out more. It’s a classic sleepover game, my girl!” Raven poked me in the chest jokingly, “And, obviously, we’re playing because we have a truth or dare virgin over here. What do you say Clarkey? Plllleeeeaaaasssseeeeeeee?”

Clarke rolled her eyes at the girl, but smiled genuinely as she sighed, “Okay fine, but nothing that’ll piss off my parents.”

“Obviously, that’s a given, we’re not trying to invoke the wrath of Abby and Jake. So you know the rules, Lex?” Raven nodded at me.

“There are only two options, Reyes, I think I’ll catch on. I’m a fast learner,” I joked.

“You better be, because I get to choose the first person and you are it. Truth or dare, Woods?” the Latina smirked.

“Dare?” I asked, a little uncertain.

“First of all, say it like you mean it. Secondly, and I’ll have you know I’m starting you off easy, I dare you to let me pick a song off your iPod and you have to do a dramatic interpretive dance to it for us,” Raven smiled.

“You do know that I can’t dance, right?” I grumbled, getting up to grab my iPod from my duffel in the corner and dropping it into Raven’s over-eager hands.

“I know you _hate_ to dance, that doesn’t mean you _can’t_. So you better get nice and limber—I expect movement and depth and Indra would have no sympathy if you hurt yourself playing truth or dare. Ladies, let’s clear the floor for this one!”

Raven started to flip through my iPod and I felt uncomfortable before the music even began. I was struck again by how personal it was for someone to look through my music. While Clarke had joked with the others about my “low blood pressure” music, it was still different for Raven to actually be looking through all of my playlists. The rest of the girls giggled as they picked up the snacks and drink cans from the floor and climbed onto the couch. I stood off to the side, awkwardly shifting my weight from one foot to the other. Clarke ran across the room, switching off most of the lights excluding the recessed lighting above me.

She walked back over, bumping my hip, and chuckled “Now we have a proper spotlight for the show,” she winked surreptitiously at me once she’d settled on the couch and I let out a huff of annoyance and shook my head at the girl.

_At least this is taking her mind off her nerves for a moment._

Raven plugged my iPod into Clarke’s speaker in the TV cabinet behind me and clicked it to maximum volume. “Ready?” she smirked, practically bouncing with excitement.

“As I will ever be, I suppose” I grumbled through gritted teeth.

Raven pressed play and bounded over to the couch to perch on the arm and watch as the distinctive first beats of the song rang through the basement. It was Rihanna’s “Disturbia” and my cheeks flushed deep pink. It was the first song I had heard in Clarke’s truck the day we met and I had poked fun at her for it. But I had also downloaded it the very next day. I glanced over at Clarke and, even in the semidarkness, I could see her grinning at me with an eyebrow raised.

Raven, of course, had no idea about any of this. “Dance, Woods, c’mon!” she yelled over the beat.

All-in-all, Raven had picked me a pretty easy song and I appreciated it as I flailed around the room. The beat was even, I knew enough of the words, and I had also (embarrassingly) danced it around my empty house a fair number of times. I twirled and made exaggerated movements that went along with some of the lyrics. My audience wolf-whistled when they weren’t dying of laughter and a smile had broken out on my pink cheeks by the time the song faded out.

I laughed breathlessly as I went to turn off the music before it switched to the next song. “Satisfactory?” I asked, still chuckling.

“Oh that was better than I ever could have imagined!” Raven replied, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, “Who knew you had _moves_ , Woods?”

“Nice song there, slick,” Clarke called and her tone confirmed she too remembered the first time I had been in her truck.

I grinned sheepishly and deflected, “My turn to pick someone, or what, because I choose… Harper,”

“Mmm… truth,” Harper decided, smiling at me as I sat on the floor, leaning against the couch by Clarke’s feet.

“LAAAAAAMMMMMEEEEEE,” Octavia called out, shoving Harper on the arm.

The two bickered while I tried to think of a question. Having never played before, I wasn’t sure the bounds of the game as far as good “truth” questions to ask. “What’s something you’ve done and then had to lie to your parents about?” I asked, figuring that was relatively safe. Harper seemed the type to rarely break the rules so I was curious what she would say.

She blushed beet red and mumbled something I couldn’t hear, but that was apparently so juicy it caused Raven to fall off her perch on the arm of the couch and land on the ground with a thud.

“Ouch, shit! You did WHAT with WHO?!?” Raven yelled, her eyes wide.

“She went out on a date with her _BOYFRIEND_ on Wednesday but told her parents she was hanging out at my house!” Octavia blurted out, laughing. She had clearly been sitting on this secret and was only too glad to share it with the group.

“You have a boyfriend?” Clarke and I asked in unison.

“You told O but you didn’t tell ME?” Raven questioned indignantly as she climbed back onto the arm of the couch rubbing her hip.

“She was my cover story if my parents called!” Harper defended, shrugging, “And Monty’s _not_ my boyfriend, Octavia. We just went on a date.”

“You went on a date with _MONTY_?!?” this tidbit of information seemed too much for Raven and Octavia caught her arm as she wobbled on the arm of the couch once more.

“Sit on the couch like a normal person before you really hurt yourself,” Harper chided, blushing while she added “and yes, I like Monty… he’s really smart and funny and nice.”

“Is this that boy you were crushing on that you wouldn’t tell everyone about after ‘The Strangers’?” Clarke asked excitedly.

Harper blushed, “I think I answered my one truth question for now, thanks!”

“Oh come ONNNNN!” Raven cried, exasperated, “You can’t just drop the bomb on us like that and then leave us hanging!”

But Harper laughed and shrugged, continuing the game.

Octavia had to eat a tablespoon of hot sauce and screamed as she gulped down water afterwards. Clarke had to tell about a time she peed her pants in music class in third grade while they were playing the recorder. Raven did karaoke to “Sweet Home Alabama” in a bad southern drawl that kept fading in and out. I, very reluctantly, licked the bottom of Clarke’s foot for five seconds. Clarke’s feet were ticklish and Raven only let me stop a second early when Clarke kicked me in the nose. Octavia told us she had cheated on most of her math tests her freshman year. Raven sat in her sports bra with her eyes closed and let Clarke draw on her with sharpie. She liked the black bird Clarke drew on her shoulder blade so much she claimed she wanted it tattooed once she could get one. A mortified Harper had to text Monty and ask him out on a second date.

Clarke was giggling giddily at having made Harper text the boy she liked, and when Clarke wouldn’t stop despite Harper’s annoyance, she retaliated. “Fine, you want to play that way? Clarke! I dare you to call your crush and tell them how you feel about them!”

Clarke instantly stopped laughing and turned pink, “… Okay… fine…” the girl grumbled, getting off the couch to grab her phone. She had her teeth gritted and I saw her chest rise and fall as she took a deep breath, as though steeling herself for something big. She flipped open her phone, pressed a few buttons and then paused—her finger over the call button—and looked up to lock her blue eyes with my green. I smiled at her and nodded reassuringly. Clarke pressed the button dramatically, bringing the phone up to her ear.

Immediately, my phone started buzzing on the coffee table. I glanced sideways at the other girls on the couch as I reached for the phone. Raven was mouthing like a goldfish out of water. Harper had her eyebrow raised at me again, a small smile spreading rapidly across her face. Octavia was looking between my phone on the table and Clarke with such speed I was sure she was going to give herself whiplash.

I picked up the phone and brought it to my ear. “Hello, Clarke,” I said, looking back into those blue eyes as I spoke, the reassuring smile again on my face.

“Hey, Lexa. So I uh… I-really-really-like-you-and-I’m-happy-you’re-my-girlfriend,” Clarke blurted out in one breath. Smiling at me nervously, she pulled the phone away from her ear and flipped it closed with a _snap_. I beamed at Clarke, rushing over to the girl to hug her to me tightly for a moment before turning to our friends. I could feel how shaky she was and I reached for her hand, interlacing our fingers.

They were silent for a moment, all three staring at us intently, mouths agape, and I squeezed Clarke’s trembling hand. And then, suddenly, they all spoke at once.

“That’s awesome! How long have you been dating?” Harper asked, her smile warm and genuine.

“Well, that was precious, you guys are too cute!” Octavia squealed.

“THANK GOD! ABOUT FUCKING TIME!” Raven yelled. She immediately turned to O and Harper, “Looks like you guys owe me $20 each. I will take cash, thanks. Chipotle gift cards will also be accepted.”

The other two groaned loudly at Raven, rolling their eyes.

“Wait… you BET on us?” Clarke asked, putting her hands on her hips and looking cross.

“Sure did! I bet these two suckers that you guys would end up dating the day we were at the airport leaving for Festival like a year and a half ago. Took you long enough, but I knew you’d come through for me in the end! Also, I would just like to put this out there right now, I TOLD YOU THAT YOU TWO HAD A THING GOING ON. But would you listen to me? No. You had to just flirt incessantly with each other for 18 months before you figured out that Raven is always right.”

“And we were worried about them being supportive,” I joked, throwing an arm around Clarke’s shoulder.

Clarke leaned into me, chuckling lightly, and I could feel her body relax. I laughed too, relieved that these three were being as understanding as I knew they would be. I was so happy that Raven, Octavia, and Harper had come into my life along with Clarke.

“Were you really worried?” Harper asked, concern in her voice.

Clarke looked away and shrugged, biting her lower lip. I didn’t want to answer for the girl, so I waited as she thought, still holding her snuggly against me. Finally she sighed, “You three have been my best friends for forever. I didn’t want to ever lose you over something like this. And I still don’t really know… what I am… you know? It’s just kind of… scary…”

“Aww, Clarkey. You’re you! We love you, no matter who you love! Plus, Lexa is pretty awesome, so that helps,” Octavia winked as she got up from the couch to pull Clarke and me into a hug. Raven and Harper quickly jumped up to join in, squeezing us tightly.

“Just so you know,” Raven added, her voice muffled in the jumble of limbs, “You two are NOT discrete, so we’ve known it's progressed into something more for a while. But you’re also adorable and seem perfect for each other and I’m happy that you’re comfortable enough to tell us. Now you can stop with the obvious attempts at sneaking off places together when we’re hanging out and just kiss in front of us. It’ll be much more efficient.”

Everyone laughed as we untangled ourselves and went to sit down. I pulled Clarke by the hand over to her favorite armchair with me, pulling her into my lap and wrapping my arms around her waist. Raven, Octavia, and Harper settled onto the couch all smiling at us broadly. I had a feeling they would have some questions and I wanted to do my best to ground the ones Clarke didn’t feel up for. I was sure tonight had already been a lot for her. Even though our friends had been as supportive as anyone could have hoped for, I knew the nerves that came with coming out to anyone, particularly in the beginning, were draining.

“Go ahead, what do you want to ask?” I sighed, chuckling gently as they looked at each other as though deciding who got to ask what.

“How long have you been dating?” O spat out first.

“Just about a month,” I responded and sensing that they wanted more detail, added, “A few days after that night at Harper’s where I had the panic attack.”

They all nodded knowingly, smiling and nudging each other as though referencing some conversation neither Clarke nor I had been privy to.

“What?” Clarke asked, warily.

“Oh, nothing,” Raven quickly lied, trying to change the subject she asked “So who else knows?”

I narrowed my eyes at the obvious deflection but answered, “My friend Anya. The one that you guys met over Christmas break,”

“The hot one?” Raven blurted out then, blushing, she stammered “I meannnnn… the uhh… your friend… who’s in college...?”

I chuckled and, only half teasing, asked “You want her number? You two would honestly probably hit it off.”

Raven went red and rubbed the back of her neck, nervously, “I mean, uhh, maybe. She seemed cool… but we’re uh… we’re getting off-topic…”

“Do your parents know?” Harper asked and Raven looked grateful at the shift of attention.

Clarke and I shook our heads and I added, “I know I haven’t talked much about my dad with you guys. He’s not around much and we don’t exactly… see eye to eye. He… hasn’t exactly responded well in the past with my relationships, so I generally just don’t involve him.”

Clarke laced our fingers together in her lap and squeezed my hands.

Octavia replied, “That sounds rough, I’m sorry, Lex.”

“Honestly, it’s okay. It’s better than it was. It used to be yelling, now he’s just never there and we don’t really talk.”

Raven and Harper nodded sadly, Harper probing, “What about you, Clarke?”

I felt the blonde tense a little and I gave her waist a gentle squeeze.

“I haven’t told them, although I think my brothers already know. Aiden said something to me and Lexa a while ago… It’s just hard. It’s like with you guys. I don’t really know what to tell them because I don’t know what label I am. And I’m scared they’ll react badly, too…” Clarke trailed off, her voice higher than usual. I knew her throat must be tight. It hurt me to hear her so evidently close to tears at the thought of telling her parents. I wanted to protect this girl so badly.

“We’re here for you both, okay?” Harper said, and the other two nodded eagerly from the couch.

“We promise we won’t tell anybody, okay? And if we can help in any way, let us know. We love you guys,” Raven added, her tone unusually serious.

I grinned at my friends as I felt tears well up in the corners of my eyes. Having this support meant so much to me. It had been something I sorely needed when I had been forced out years before. Besides Anya, I had never had a close crew of friends and certainly nobody that I felt loved me in quite the way this group of girls did. I hoped Clarke felt their love and support as I did. I hoped it would help her realize that things were going to be okay, even if she was still confused and figuring everything out.

“Enough sappy stuff, let’s put in a movie and pass out. I’m exhausted,” I joked, trying to hide my emotion. I quickly added “But, seriously, thank you guys. It means a lot to know you’re here. I’m so lucky to have you guys as friends.”

Clarke nodded, “We’re so lucky. Love you guys. Thank you.” I could hear the emotion thick in her voice still and I leaned over her shoulder to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Awww, y’all are so sweet it’s gross. I love it!” Octavia teased.

I rolled my eyes, but Clarke turned her head to kiss me on the forehead.

“You better believe it, kids. Now what movie are we watching?” the blonde polled the group, then turning to me, added under her breath, “Another scary movie?”

“Only if it ends like the last one did,” I whispered, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. I felt a shiver run through her and a smirk crossed my lips as I leaned forward to rest my chin on her shoulder. I looked around at this group of girls in front of me, bickering animatedly over what movie to watch. The girl I cared for most in the world pressed on my lap, her fingers playing absently with mine as she joined in the playful argument. I looked around and I couldn’t think of a time I felt more loved and happy and home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thanks to Leelan22's hilarious suggestion about Raven making bets on Clarke and Lexa dating.
> 
> Next, thanks as always to everyone who has read, subscribed and commented! Definitely been floored by all of the support for something I just decided to write for fun and I sincerely appreciate it! Please keep letting me know what you're enjoying or not with each chapter. I love hearing any ideas that folks have about directions I should take this or tidbits I should incorporate! The comments really are what makes me motivated to continue working on this.


	10. Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa have serious talk. Pancakes are made. Kitchen disasters ensue.

**February 2009**

I woke up gently, a familiar, pleasant smell enveloping me, faintly aware of the fact that I was wearing nothing but my underwear, and something tickling my palm softly. My eyes fluttered open to see Clarke lying across from me in her bed, lightly tracing the lines on my palm again. Her sapphire eyes were on my hand and she was fully absorbed in the lines, as though she were trying to glean some meaning from the patterns there. I watched her quietly, taking in her blonde locks (tousled from sleep and from what had come before it), the curve of her breasts (still bare from last night), her collarbone (a purple bruise blooming there—evidently I hadn’t been gentle enough), meticulously taking in every detail of this beautiful person who lay across from me.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” Clarke whispered, finally looking up from my palm to realize I was awake and pulling me from my reverie.

I shook my head. “Why are you whispering?” I whispered back, my voice hoarse with sleep.

“I didn’t want to break this perfect moment,” Clarke replied, pulling my hand to her lips to press a gentle kiss to my palm.

My stomach fluttered with the contact and the love for the girl in front of me.

“Have you been up long?” I asked. The idea that she had been watching me sleep made me a little self-conscious. _What if I had been drooling?_ I quickly wiped my cheek with the back of my other hand to check. It was dry, thank goodness.

“A little while. I didn’t want to wake you… but I also… kind of… couldn’t help but touch you. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mind, Clarke. Not at all. I like waking up next to you.”

The blonde smiled, blush coloring her cheeks, she looked away shyly as she replied, “Me too.”

“Well good. C’mere,” I demanded, pulling her towards me so that her head lay on my chest. She threw one naked thigh over my own and hummed happily, the vibration against my skin tickling and making me chuckle. We sat in silence for a few moments, just enjoying this intimacy, the feeling of skin on skin. A thought suddenly came to me. “Why do you do that with my hands—trace the lines like that?” I asked, my fingers playing with blonde locks absentmindedly.

Clarke buried her face into my neck. “You’re going to think I’m weird,” she mumbled against the sensitive skin above my collarbone.

“I already think you’re weird, Clarke. In the best possible way. I don’t think we would work if you weren’t,” I replied teasingly, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

“Rude,” Clarke mumbled, still hiding her face.

“It’s that ‘goalie thing’, remember?” I joked and I could feel the girl smile against me.

“You really want to know?” she asked, turning her face to lie back on my chest and reaching across my body to grab my hand in hers. She pulled it to her lips and pressed another kiss to my palm.

“I really want to know, Clarke.”

She inhaled deeply, held her breath for a beat, and then said, “I’ve always loved your hands. Since the moment we met. You shook my hand there was this… feeling. I didn’t know what it was but I didn’t want to let go. And then your fingers brushed my shoulders when you offered to help me with my gear and I got butterflies in my stomach. In a way that I hadn’t ever before and I was instantly hooked and intrigued. I don’t know, it’s like you’ve got magic in your touch, Lex. I’ve kind of wanted to draw your hands for a while, but I thought that was weird to ask, so I was trying to memorize the pattern of the lines. The way they cross and fade. Where they begin and end. Because that’s you. Those patterns are like a fingerprint—the exact shapes and angles and crosses—those are you and nobody else. And if I have a mental picture of that… then I have something that’s totally you… and I want that. I want you.”

We were silent for a moment. “Can I ask you something, Clarke?” I felt like my heart was pounding. I wondered if Clarke had noticed it speed up under her ear. I wondered if her heart was beating fast too.

“You can, Lexa,” the girl replied softly. If she had noticed, she wasn’t saying anything.

“Okay…” I started, letting out a big exhale and trying to think my way through how I would ask what was making my mind buzz. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. “Clarke, would you… would-you-like-to-be-my-girlfriend?” I stammered on the last few words, making them come out all mashed together.

Eyes still shut tight, I felt Clarke pull away from me and my heart sank. But then I felt her grab my hands and pull me up to sit cross-legged facing her. I slowly opened my eyes to find her deep blues staring at me intently. She nodded. “Yes, Lexa, I’d like that a lot,” she replied after a beat, smiling. My heart soared and I squeezed her hands, a wide smile breaking out on my face.

Clarke looked away nervously and continued, “But I’m still figuring it all out, okay? I’m still figuring out if I’m gay or… what I am. And I don’t want that to mess this up or to hurt you…” Clarke’s voice broke, tears welling in her eyes.

I put my arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer and kissing her softly on the forehead. “Shh. Hey, it’s okay, Clarke. Relationships are always a jump but, if you want this, it’s a jump we’re making together. I appreciate your honesty though. And if you want to wait more, if you don’t want this yet, that’s okay. I want to be with you, but not if you’re not ready for that.”

She hugged me tightly and our bodies fully pressed together, skin to skin. This was a serious conversation, but the fact that we were both quite naked and in very close contact was clouding my brain with desire. I bit my bottom lip and tried to focus on the blonde beneath me.

“I do want this, Lex,” she started, eyes staring deeply into mine. Chuckling and gesturing our nakedness with a nod, she added, “And not just _this_. I want to be your girlfriend. I don’t want to wait. I want to figure this out with you. But I guess I’m still scared of what people will say. I’m scared of stuff… like what happened with Ontari. So is it okay if we don’t tell people yet?”

I considered this. Secrets were messy, but I also understood Clarke’s desire to keep things private until she had figured herself out more fully. I understood her fear.

“You’re allowed to be afraid. I understand it’s scary, not knowing, feeling like people can hurt you with something you’re not even sure of yet. I’ve been through that, so I understand wanting to keep this a secret and I’m fine with that as long as it’s what’s right for you. And I’m here for you. To help figure all this out, okay?”

Clarke nodded, squeezing me more tightly. “Thank you, Lexa,” she whispered, her lips close to my ear.

“Of course, Clarke. And I understand not wanting to tell anyone in our immediate circles, but can I tell Anya?” I asked tentatively, explaining, “She’s like a sister to me—we tell each other everything. She was the first person I came out to and she didn’t tell anyone. I know she would do the same for us if I tell her keeping this private is important to you.”

Clarke nodded, “Anya’s okay. I just, I’m not ready for everyone else to know yet, okay?”

“Thank you, Clarke. And I understand completely.” I pulled back slightly to give her a quick peck on the lips. Smiling at this girl, my girlfriend, I asked “What do you say we get some clothes on and make pancakes?”

Clarke mirrored my kiss and pushed away from me, retorting “Okay, but first let me get one last good look at you. I waited a long time for this view.”

I laughed, pulling on the sweats she had given me the previous night, rolling the waistband so they sat low on my hips. Straightening up, I looked around for my shirt that we had discarded so haphazardly. Clarke was staring at me, her mouth slightly agape.

“See something you like, Ambassador?” I quirked an eyebrow, feeling slightly self-conscious.

“You’re fucking stunning. Can you just let me look at you for a minute? I need a mental picture of _this_ ,” Clarke drooled.

I blushed, standing there for a few seconds, letting the blue eyes rake over my body, still half-naked. I wasn’t used to being looked at the way Clarke was looking at me. Slightly nervous, I continued to look around the room for the shirt and found it in the far corner of the room close to the blonde. I walked over to grab it and, as I bent to grab it, Clarke smacked my ass playfully. She expertly dodged me as I tried to retaliate and ran out of the room, still in only her underwear. I slipped the shirt over my head quickly and ran after her into the hallway. Seeing me, she shrieked and bolted down the stairs, her shirt still in her hands. Her bare feet thumped on the hardwood, into the kitchen and towards the living room.

I caught up with the blonde, tackling her onto the couch and pinning her beneath me. As she writhed, I grabbed both of her hands, trapping them above her head with one of my own. She gave a raspy giggle and I leaned down to capture her lips with mine. Clarke struggled playfully at first but I deepened the kiss, sucking on her bottom lip and she stopped, a breathy moan slipping from her lips. I let her lip go with a pop and smiled against her lips, “You like that?”

Clarke looked slightly embarrassed but nodded. “Noted,” I said with a smirk, pecking her on the lips as I got up off of her.

“Tease,” the blonde pouted, but she took the hand I extended to her and got up off of the couch.

“Hey, we need our energy. Plus, I know you get cranky if you don’t eat. Where’s the pancake mix?”

“I do _not_ get cranky!” Clarke objected, crankily.

I quirked an eyebrow at the blonde. She huffed and pulled her shirt over her head as she padded over to the pantry. Grumbling unintelligibly to herself, she shifted things around and finally extracted a box. Clarke deposited it on the counter and crossed her arms, still looking rather grumpy. I resisted the urge to laugh at her and picked up the package, reading through the instructions briefly. “Butter and milk, please” I instructed as she shuffled off to the fridge.

While Clarke busied herself with the fridge, I took a mixing bowl from the dish drain and pulled a worn wooden spoon from a jar on the counter. Finding the cabinet with the pots and pans, I grabbed a large skillet and placed it on the stove. The gas burner clicked into life with a satisfying blue glow.

“Measuring cups?” I asked as I pulled drawers open in search.

“Corner drawer by the sink,” Clarke nodded, now smiling at me.

“What’s got you so pleased?” I questioned as I grabbed the proper utensils.

“You. In the kitchen. Cooking for me. It’s kind of cute,” she replied blushing and looking away.

I smiled, my heart warm. “Who said I was cooking _for_ you. You’re helping me. Come here and open the bag of mix.”

“I’m a disaster in the kitchen,” Clarke laughed, “I think I would be more of a hindrance than a help.”

“It is pancakes Clarke, not aerospace engineering. Plus, I’ll do all the hard parts,” I winked at the girl, kissing her cheek as she walked past me.

She laughed, pulling the pouch of mix from the box. I turned to grab the milk from where she had left it and heard a loud _rrrriiiippppp_ and a cough from behind me. I turned to see the blonde’s face and shirt covered in a fine white powder. She blinked rapidly, pancake mix falling from her lashes to the floor, and smiled sheepishly. “Oops.”

I started laughing harder than I had in a while, bending over and clutching my side, wheezing. Clarke was chuckling too, “I told you I’m a disaster!” she laughed, placing the half-empty bag of mix on the counter and backing away with her hands raised in surrender.

I clicked the burner off as I carefully padded over to the blonde, trying to avoid the mix covering the tile floor like snow and still giggling. I kissed her pancake-dusted nose. “You wash yourself off and I’ll deal with the kitchen. Where do you guys keep the broom?”

=====================================================================================

 Clarke’s face, clothes, and the kitchen all clean, the blonde now sat on the counter next to me in her underwear and an oversized green tee shirt from a 2004 “Turkey Trot” her dad had run in. I had appointed her DJ and she flipped through songs on her iPod, humming happily and swinging her legs along with the beat. I stirred together the batter as the pan again warmed on the burner. I tested the heat with a drop of water, knowing it was ready once the drop danced across the pan. I cut a pat of butter and dropped it into the pan, swirling it around as it sizzled to coat the bottom. I poured the first few pancakes into the pan, watching the batter bubble as it cooked. I expertly went through the batter, flipping pancakes to reveal golden brown undersides, piling them onto a plate next to me.

Jack Johnson’s “Banana Pancakes” played and Clarke was suddenly behind me at the stove, her hands gripping my waist to pull me flush against her. She rested her head comfortably on my shoulder and I smiled, thinking how well our bodies fit together like this. She swayed us back and forth gently to the music and I sang along to the words I knew so well: “…We could close the curtains, pretend like there’s no world outsi-i-ide. We could pretend it all the time…”

_I could do this every morning for forever and be pretty perfectly happy._

“Can I taste?” Clarke whispered, her lips tickling my ear in the way that drove me crazy in the best way.

“Patience, Ambassador, these are almost done and there’s enough left for one last small one,” I chuckled, but my stomach was fluttering.

“Not the pancakes, the batter,” she laughed breathily, her warm breath brushing my ear.

“Haha, really? It’s just pancake batter, it doesn’t taste like much.”

“Pleeeeeaaaaasssseeeeee?” her fingers gently pulled my hair back to kiss my neck right behind my ear. _We’ve barely been dating for an hour and she already knows how to kill me. I’m in trouble._

I cleared my throat, “You’re going to make me burn these. Let me get them out of the pan first, hang on.” Clarke stayed pressed against me as I grabbed the spatula, deftly flipping the fluffy pancakes, revealing perfect golden brown color on each side. I slipped them onto the plate and scooped batter into the waiting pan, leaving just enough for the blonde to taste.

I grabbed the bowl and turned to face the girl, who maintained the grip on my waist. I swiped my finger along the side of the bowl and held it in front of her lips teasingly. “Since you like my hands so much,” I joked, winking. To my surprise, she leaned forward to slowly suck the batter off my finger, tongue and teeth sliding up the digit. To my even greater surprise, this made me instantly wet and I had to bite my lip to keep an involuntary noise of pleasure from slipping from my mouth.

I looked into Clarke’s eyes, dark pupils eclipsing the blue, and all restraint evaded me instantly. I dropped the bowl carelessly onto the counter behind me, grabbing the girl’s waist and backing her up into the kitchen island. I kissed her, hard, and the heat in me grew as she moaned against my lips. My hands were all over her body—sliding up under her tee shirt to slide against the curve of her hips, the smooth skin of her back. Our tongues were tangled again and I pulled hers into my mouth, sucking on it as she had done to my finger mere moments before. She hummed with pleasure, snaking her hands under my shirt, her nails dragging down my back. The edge of pain and pleasure, it stoked that fire and my hands shot to her ass, picking the blonde up swiftly and sitting her on the edge of the counter in front of me.

I kissed her deeply and saw her eyes close as I moved my lips to her neck, kissing gently now—knowing I couldn’t leave a mark where prying eyes could see. Clarke leaned her head back, giving me better access and I pulled the neck of the tee shirt aside, kissing along her collarbone, nipping at her shoulder, while one hand slowly slid up her bare thigh. I moved tantalizingly slow, wanting to tease, to make her ask me for what she wanted. Gripping her thigh, my thumb traced at her bikini line, through wisps of errant blonde curls poking out from her cotton underwear. Clarke squirmed in front of me and she whined impatiently. She locked her feet behind me and pulled me closer to her and my hand slipping and pressing briefly where she wanted me. Now that I was there, feeling that growing damp spot through her underwear, I forgot about teasing. I cupped her sex, the heel of my hand pressing against her clit, my middle finger toying at her entrance through her underwear.

Then a few things happened at once—I heard the garage door open and Clarke noticed the smell of something burning. We both froze for half a second and then:

“When is your family back?!” I asked, my voice breaking with panic.

“The pancake is burning!” Clarke yelled, at exactly the same instant.

“What?!” I turned around to see the smoke.

“What?!” Clarke jumped off the counter.

“Oh, shit!”

“Oh, fuck!”

“Pants!” I shouted, pointing lamely to the blonde’s bare legs.

“Fire!” Clarke shouted, pointing to the smoking pan.

“I got it! Just go get dressed!” I hissed, hearing Clarke’s family opening the door to the laundry room as I grabbed the pan off of the stove.

Clarke shot out of the room, but not before Artie swung open the door, a duffle over one shoulder and his mouth agape. His wide eyes followed a half-naked Clarke as she ran into the front hall before they turned to me, putting water on the pan, it hissing loudly into the silence. I watched surprise fade into understanding fade to a knowing smirk all in the span of a few seconds. _Welllllll shit._

The rest of the family began bustling in behind Artie, who finally moved from the doorway, although his smirk was still firmly in place.

“Clarke, are you trying to burn down the house?” Jake yelled, so busy juggling the bags in his hands he hadn’t yet looked up to find his daughter was not in the room.

“Lexa’s here!” Aden announced excitedly, bouncing up and down.

“Hi, Lexa, sweetie,” Mrs. Griffin waved from behind him, quickly covering up her slight confusion at finding me when she expected her daughter, “Everything okay?”

“Uhh… yes… sorry. I uhh… I burnt a pancake,” I stammered.

“Nice to see you, Lexa!” Mr. Griffin called, and despite the fact that I had almost burnt down their house, he looked genuinely pleased that I was there, “And that’s okay. Clarkey’s a disaster in the kitchen too. Where is she, by the way?” He looked around now noticing his daughter’s absence.

At that moment the blonde shot back into the room, now fully clothed. “Sorry, bathroom!” she announced, clearly out of breath, “Welcome home! I didn’t know you guys would be back this early?”

“Yes, well, the weather is headed up north and we didn’t want to get snowed in so we left before it got too bad. Didn’t you get my text? You never leave your phone lying around…” Mrs. Griffin asked suspiciously as she hung up her coat.

Clarke mouthed wordlessly for a moment, though neither of her parents saw.

“Lexa’s over, mom. You’re always harping on us not to be on our phones when we have guests. Clarke was probably just being a good host, right?” Artie supplied genially, though there was still a glimmer in his eye.

“Yeah,” Clarke nodded, “I left it upstairs, actually. Sorry. I figured you’d call the home phone if you uhh... needed me.”

Mrs. Griffin shrugged but Jake laughed, “Glad one of you listens to your mother’s advice at least. We won’t bug you two, enjoy your pancakes. And, Lexa, thanks for keeping Clarke company while we were gone!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There have been requests for a chapter where Clarke comes out to her family/tells her family about her and Lexa, so that may be where this story is headed next if there's interest in that. 
> 
> Thank you as always to everyone who has read, left kudos, favorited, subscribed and commented. Feedback is definitely a huge motivator-- I like hearing what you all want to read, directions you want this to go, etc. So a big thanks to those who always leave their thoughts, encouragement and praise. As a pretty new fic writer that's definitely kept me motivated to keep this story going when I may have otherwise stopped after a few chapters. So thanks!


	11. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa gets into some serious and not so serious conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of alcoholism and physical abuse in this chapter. It occurs before the first "====" break, so if you want to skip that but read the rest of the chapter, skip down to there.

**March 2009**

“What kind of bagel do you want?” Raven asked, rummaging through the large paper bag that Clarke’s mom had left on the counter. It was from the Griffin’s favorite local place and there had been a post-it note attached: “Girls, Please eat. Cream cheese in the fridge.” Aden had an early lacrosse game and Clarke’s parents had taken Artie along, apparently grabbing us breakfast before they left. I wondered if Clarke was used to stuff like this from her parents. It still felt deeply touching to me.

Realizing Raven was still waiting on an answer, I quickly replied, “Whatever’s on the top? I’m not picky.” I yawned and stretched as I grabbed plates and utensils. Clarke, Octavia and Harper were still asleep in the basement, but Raven and I had gotten hungry and came up to see what we could scrounge. Although I knew Raven had practically grown up with the Griffins, I could tell she appreciated the food like I did. Raven didn’t talk about her family or home life often, and although we hung out at pretty much everyone else’s place, I had yet to see Raven’s home.

I had asked Clarke about it once, a few months ago. I could immediately tell something was off, the way the blonde shifted uncomfortably and looked away. “Raven’s family is… her dad died when she was a baby and her mom… died when she was thirteen. Her mom signed papers letting the neighbors adopt her, so she lives with them. They’re really good to her but she… she’s always felt like a guest. She doesn’t like having people there. I’ve only been once. I think O has been over there a few times.”

I had later pieced together through bits of conversation that Raven’s mother had been an alcoholic. Despite my tumultuous past few years at home, I couldn’t imagine how rough Raven’s childhood must have been. I wondered how, despite the growing friendship between us, we had never talked about the fact that we both came from pretty broken families. But then, it wasn’t exactly something I was eager to talk about, so I understood it.

“I wonder if Clarke knows how lucky she is to be a part of a family like this,” I blurted out, speaking the words that had been rolling around in my mind since we’d seen the bagels.

“She does,” Raven replied instantly, not looking up from her bagel as she spread cream cheese on it. Thinking I had annoyed the girl, I didn’t press further, pretending to focus more intently than necessary on my bagel. Finally, Raven looked up and caught my eyes. “She grew up with me, Woods. A mouthy, constantly-hungry, angry kid who came to school bruised up more often than not,” Raven was quiet now, and I saw her hand go unconsciously to touch her left leg. She continued, “She’s your girlfriend and she knows your past, knows your dad’s never there. Believe me, Clarke knows how good she’s got it with Abby and Jake. Why do you think she invites us over here all the time?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not a pity thing, so don’t get defensive. Clarke just has a knack for spotting kinda broken people, she knows how to be a friend to them and not in a ‘fix them’ kind of way. She knows what her parents are like, overflowing with love, and she knows that being around her family is healing for people like us who don’t have that. I don’t think it’s a conscious thing, really, she’s just always been like that. Once you’re one of her ‘people’ she’d do anything to protect you and make sure you’re okay. And she is usually pretty good at figuring out exactly how to make you feel like things are okay.”

I nodded, deep in thought. I wasn’t used to being taken care of. I didn’t realize that was what Clarke was doing, and it made me a little uneasy.

“You’re good for her, Lexa. You’re helping her figure herself out and learn to be okay with who she is. Don’t let the fact that she might be good for you too freak you out,” Raven said sagely, crunching into her bagel and waggling a finger at me.

“How is it that you know everything?” I asked, chuckling as I started to eat.

“Near-death experiences age you,” Raven answered. I thought she was being her usual sarcastic self, but one look at her face told me she was serious. I was silent, letting her talk if she wanted to, not wanting to push it. “It’s a long, shitty story that sort of caps off a pretty long and shitty childhood. I was 13, packing up some stuff to move in with my neighbors. Some guys came to the door looking for my mom. She owed them money. There was a scuffle and I was in the way. They pulled a gun and the bullet hit me in the leg. They ran and I was home alone. By the time the cops came and found me, I had lost a lot of blood and the bullet had moved to my spine. I woke up from surgery and couldn’t feel anything in my leg below the knee so I had to relearn how to walk. But I lived.” She told her story like I talked about mine—rehearsed, empty, and void of all emotion. That was how you survived retelling it without letting it rip open old wounds. I knew it still hurt.

“Thanks for trusting me with that, Rae,” I said after a minute, quietly pulling the girl back to the present.

Raven gave me a weak smile and nodded. “Maybe sometime you’ll tell me yours. But that was enough sappy backstory for one morning. Let’s fully appreciate the food and love from our found family,” the smile spread to her eyes now and she bumped my bagel with hers, as if to “cheers” our breakfast together. Just then, the basement door opened to reveal Octavia, Harper and Clarke, all looking very sleepy.

“What’re you early risers doing?” Clarke yawned, a sliver of pale skin peeking out from beneath her tee shirt as she stretched. My fingers tingled slightly with the urge to tickle that smooth skin, and I knew I was staring.

“Well, _Lexa_ is drooling over you right now, but we _were_ bonding over the bagels your blessed parents left us,” Raven responded, earning sleepy chuckles from the others. Raven turned back to me, giving me a shrug and a knowing smirk. They didn’t have to know that she wasn’t joking.

=====================================================================================

I waved goodbye to the blonde in the blue pickup as she pulled away from my driveway. The late morning sunshine warmed my cheeks as I watched the truck disappear from view around a bend in the street. I smiled to myself as I thought about everything that had happened in the last 24 hours. The silliness of playing truth or dare together. How our friends had been so accepting about finding out Clarke and I were together. The long conversation Raven and I had that morning. Our ‘found family’, as Raven had called it, made my heart happy. Absentmindedly typing in the garage code, the door slowly opened to reveal my father’s black sedan was gone. No big surprise there. Sure, it was a Saturday, but he still likely was getting in a few hours at the office. Not that we particularly got along, but it still bothered me—his total absence. He hadn’t always been that way. _We_ hadn’t always been that way.

Before the accident, my father had worked strictly nine to five. He always kissed my sleepy bed head good morning and made sure he was home for dinner every night. He cooked on the weekends and insisted my mom not lift a finger because she ‘did all the work during the week’. She would sit on the counter and watch him cook, singing along to whatever was on the radio. She had a horrible voice but he looked at her like she was an angel. He loved her very much. That much I never doubted. He helped me with my homework most nights. Sat at the kitchen table with the sleeves of his work shirts rolled up while he explained long division and the water cycle and the Revolutionary War. And he read to me at night—Harry Potter, Redwall, the Chronicles of Narnia, or whatever else I brought home from the school library. He was always quiet, but he loved to crack jokes that would catch you off-guard and make you double over with laughter. He was strict, but rarely yelled. He wasn’t the type of father to wrestle on the floor or kick a soccer ball in the yard with me, but he was there. We were a family.

And then the accident happened. We left the house that reminded him of my mom. He started working more so he didn’t have to be around the daughter that reminded him of her. I didn’t know if he blamed me. I never asked. I didn’t blame him, but he never asked if I did either. After the funeral, we didn’t talk about the accident, so it’s not as though it would have naturally come up in conversation. Not that it ever _naturally_ would’ve come up in conversation. There’s not really a good way to ask someone if they blame you for the death of a friend or loved one. Especially when, in reality, I think both of us felt that guilt anyways. We didn’t need that verbal confirmation it was our fault they got into that car in the first place. We knew. How do you talk about things when you’ve got that hanging between you? You try, maybe, for a little while, and then you don’t. Nowadays we mostly communicated practical information: how long he would be out of town; when I would be at a friend’s overnight; how much money he left on the counter for dinner tonight; the rare occasion that I needed a ride to a practice or tournament.

Somehow I had gotten up to my room and I was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. We had a rare weekend without field hockey, but I had a pile of homework that needed to get done so I hadn’t stayed at Clarke’s. I wanted to, though. On top of the obvious benefits of being in the same physical space as the blonde, there was just a comfort in being with her. In spending time with someone who was taking care of me, and who I took care of. _We’ve been apart for half an hour and you already miss her, you sap._ My phone buzzed in my pocket and I quickly flipped it open to read the incoming text.

_Clarke: Just got home. Miss u alrdy. Hurry up with your hw so we can hang._

Clearly we were on the same wavelength. As usual. This girl. I smiled as I tapped out my response.

_Lexa: Miss u too. Haven’t even started. I got distracted. Maybe hang tmw if I can rly focus?_

_Clarke: Deal. Txt when u want a break <3_

_Lexa: <3_

I smiled dopily at the emoji use and dug in my backpack for my planner to see what needed to be done—notes on a U.S. History chapter, a reflection on a poem for A.P. Language, and a physics problem set. Dreading the physics the most, I decided to try and get it out of the way. Pulling my textbook and notebook from my bag, I got to work crunching numbers and calculating projectile velocities. The silence in the empty house felt oppressive. I generally enjoyed the quiet and the calm, but I had been spending so much time over at Clarke’s that I had gotten used to the commotion and noise of a real family living in a space. I pulled my headphones and iPod from my duffel, plugging the earbuds into my ears. The screen illuminated as I unlocked it and I chuckled, thinking about dancing to ‘Disturbia’ the previous night. I had a playlist of instrumental music from movie soundtracks that I generally listened to while studying and I clicked my way to that. Without the oppressive silence, I was soon able to focus much more clearly on the physics work. Although physics didn’t come easy to me and required my full concentration and effort, I could admit it was satisfying to make my way through a problem to one final answer.

Absorbed in the last question in the problem set, I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder and jumped terribly. My father stood next to me in my room. I thought I saw the shadow of a smile cross his features for a second at my jumpiness, but I blinked and it was gone. I pulled my headphones out quickly, heart still pounding from the surprise.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you come home,” I mumbled, embarrassed at being caught off guard and vaguely aware of the fact that I couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in my room. I glanced around nervously, checking to make sure I wasn’t about to be reprimanded for living in a pigsty.

“I called your cell phone, but no answer. I thought you might still be out. Concentrating?” he asked, nodding at the textbook open in front of me on the desk.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear it go off. And yeah, it’s physics. It… uhh… isn’t my easiest subject…” I trailed off, fidgeting with the mechanical pencil in my hand.

“I know. English and history have always been more your thing. Even when you were little,” he nodded, looking around the room, distracted. He continued, “How’re your grades?”

 “I have a B+ right now. But there’s still time to raise that. This problem set is actually an extra credit thing.” My heart was still beating nervously in my chest.

“I know you’re working hard, Alexandria,” he looked me in the eye now, but not with the usual expression of challenge I was so used to. It was softer. And still distracted. We paused awkwardly and I put the pencil down on the desk so I would stop fidgeting. We didn’t just chat about things, so I knew he must have had a reason to come in here, but he didn’t seem eager to get to the point.

“So… were you at work?” I asked, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence, but not sure how.

“No. Grocery store. I have to leave for China this evening and wanted to make sure you had food so you don’t have to order takeout if you don’t want to. I’ll leave you cash too, though. I’ll be there until next Monday,” he replied.

So, there it was. The reason he was here—to tell me he was leaving again. Still, it was nice of him to get groceries for me before he left. He didn’t usually do that, even for longer trips. I forced a smile and a “Thank you.”

He still stood there, shifting his weight as he still looked around. His presence and obvious discomfort was making me nervous. _Is there something else? What‘s going on?_

“Err… am I in trouble?” I asked uneasily, not being able to imagine what I could have done that warranted a talking to but also unsure what else it could be.

“No, no. You’re not in trouble,” he responded, shaking his head, and then “I just… I noticed you have been spending a lot of time with your new friends. You seem happy. Like you haven’t been since… But… Well… If you want to have some friends… or _a_ _friend_ … over, while I’m away, you can.”

I stared at him blankly, blinking twice. “Uh... thanks... I might do that.” Did he just emphasize ‘a _friend_ ’ like that?

“Okay… be safe… and uh… no parties,” he added awkwardly, as though suddenly remembering to parent. It sounded strange coming from his lips. If my head hadn’t been still reeling with the ‘friend’ comment and now ‘be safe’, I would have had to fight a smile.

“Not my scene. But no parties, I promise,” I answered distractedly after a beat.

“Okay, Alexandria,” he nodded, fleeing from the room. “Good luck with the physics,” he added, pulling the door closed behind him before I could respond.

“Okayyy…” I whispered to the closed door. I stared out the window behind my desk. Despite the brevity, there was a lot to unpack from that conversation and I didn’t really know where to begin. I had never officially come out to my father, but he knew I was gay. We didn’t talk about it, and we both knew why we didn’t talk about it. It was too tied up in the accident, the guilt. But this conversation made it seem like he knew about Clarke, as well. Was this his weird, roundabout way of telling me he was okay with me dating a girl—by telling me it was okay if I had a girl over while he was gone as long as we were ‘safe’. Given his last words and actions on the subject, that seemed like a stretch.

But, it had been five years. Was it possible that he had changed his opinion, had grown more accepting in those years and I just didn’t notice? Maybe. As much as he didn’t talk to me, it’s not like I was trying to talk to him either. It was easy to assume someone was still the same when you didn’t give them the chance to show you otherwise. Still, it’s not like he had ever tried to apologize for what happened before. It’s not like he hadn’t had the opportunity to talk to me. I was here. He was the one who was gone all the time. I rubbed my temples as I stared unseeingly at the abandoned physics problem in my notebook. _Why are people so complicated?_

One thing was for sure—if I did tell my father about my relationship, I wanted to make sure Clarke and I talked about it beforehand. I grabbed my cell phone, flopping onto my bed and dialing Clarke’s number quickly.

“Hey there! Need a break already, Commander?” Clarke bantered.

“A few things. First, you free to come sleepover here tonight? Also… I need to get your take on the conversation my father and I just had,” I blurted out the words in a rush, not feeling sharp enough to properly respond to her joke.

“Uh oh, you okay? And I’m there. What time?”

=====================================================================================

I glanced at the digital clock on my nightstand. 4:18 PM. My father had just left for the airport, and Clarke wasn’t going to be here until seven. Although incredibly distracted, I had still somehow managed to finish the physics problem set, take notes on the history chapter, and outline my ideas for the poetry essay already. I had taken to pacing recklessly around my room. Field hockey was my outlet and, although it was nice to have the occasional weekend free of commitments, I sorely missed it. The thing about playing goalie was that it required all of your mental and physical energy. You had to calculate your opponent’s moves, communicate with your defenders to block the open paths, move rapidly to cut down the angle to goal, and make split second decisions to hold your ground for a shot or go for the tackle. It had a way of capturing all of my attention that made it blissfully possible to ignore everything else going on in life. I needed that. Especially now, when my mind wouldn’t stop buzzing. Although I filled Clarke in over the phone about the conversation with my father, a part of me worried that if I made it seem like too big of a deal it would upset her. She already had a lot of anxieties around people knowing and she knew my history with my father. I didn’t want her to be worrying about that as well. But it didn’t mean that I wasn’t stressing about it. Just then my phone buzzed, rattling on my desk where I had left it.

I picked it up, expecting an update from Clarke and was surprised to see the name _Anya_ flash across the front screen.

_Anya: Just had a dream about you & me riding horses and being badass warriors in a forest. Thot I should let you know._

_Lexa: It’s 4. How are you just waking up? Also don’t you h8 horses?_

_Anya: I took a nap after lifting, snarky. And theyre big fucking animals. I dont h8 them I have a healthy respect 4 them. See if I ever text you abt my dreams again._

_Lexa: Srry. You free? Can I call?_

A second later the phone rang. I answered, “Hello?”

“What’s wrong?” Anya questioned in lieu of a greeting.

“Why do you assume something is wrong?”

“Well, for one, you didn’t respond to my ‘healthy respect for horses’ comment and I handed that one to you just to rip on me. You’re either very distracted or you’re losing your touch. Also, you hate the phone. You would 100%, always rather text than talk on the phone. So it must be something big if you don’t want to text it out. So shoot. What’s going on?”

I sighed, but I had to admit it was sort of nice having someone who just knew you like Anya knew me. I launched into the conversation that still had my head buzzing and explained my concerns at worrying Clarke.

“Okay, we’ll get to Clarke next, but first—I know it was cryptic, but if your dad is coming around to you being gay, isn’t this a good thing, Lex?” Anya reasoned.

“Well, yes. Of course. I guess it’s just… really unexpected. And it makes me nervous that I misinterpreted what he said. Maybe he does just think Clarke and I are friends. And if I tell him the truth and he reacts how I expect he would… I don’t want him trying to change me. Or to stop me from seeing Clarke. Or worse, make things harder for Clarke. It’s just… before I was so sure that it was the right decision just to never tell him. It’s not like with Clarke’s family. He’s never here and you know how we are—we don’t talk. It’s not hard to hide stuff from him and I was pretty sure that was what I should do. But if there’s a chance that he was sort of offering the olive branch today… I almost feel guilty not telling him now? I don’t know.”

“Okay, slow down, Lex. I totally get being kind of put off by the whole thing. Even though it does sound like he may be changing for the better, that’s still scary because that’s kind of rewriting your whole narrative of him within a single, relatively short conversation. That’s terrifying. Even if the picture before wasn’t ideal, your idea of your father was that he was going to have a strong negative reaction to any girl you bring home. You have very legit reasons for thinking that. Having that story potentially changed, even if it is in a good way, isn’t something you’re going to quickly accept. That’s okay. You’re allowed to be shaken up by this, Lex,” Anya soothed.

She was right. It was this potential, sudden shift in storylines that had me messed up. “Are you taking psychology classes right now?” I questioned, wondering when my emotionally vacant, sarcastic friend had gotten so wise and in-touch.

“Yes, intro last semester and cognitive psych now. I know I’m right, and you’re welcome. But to get back to the important crisis that merited this phone conversation—you really don’t have to do anything about this yet. You don’t have to tell your father anything until you feel more comfortable or at least have more confirmation on his feelings than one very ambiguous comment. And you don’t have to feel guilty about it. You’re protecting you and you’re protecting Clarke and that’s what you should be doing.”

“Thank you, really. I guess I’ve just never even thought telling him was a possibility and when that opened up I panicked. You’re right, though. I don’t have to do anything yet.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, kid,” Anya joked. “I do think you need to be honest with Clarke about it. I know you want to be the ‘strong one’ or whatever while she’s trying to figure this out, but you should be honest with her about how this made you feel and what you’re planning to do. It might even be kind of comforting to her—knowing that you don’t actually have all of this figured out and you guys are worrying about some of the same stuff. Plus, if she’s really the person you’ve told me about, she’d want to be here for you with this.”

I sighed again. “Why am I friends with such smart people?”

“That’s what you pay me the big bucks for. You can expect my bill in the mail. Who else is as smart as me, though?”

“Raven. We were having a life talk this morning and she read my mind almost like you do. You two would get along,” I explained.

“Raven’s the hot one, right? I didn’t know she was smart too, daaaaaamn,” Anya catcalled. Sometimes my friend had no filter.

“Alright cougar, calm down. She’s 18 in a month, so it’s _almost_ legal. But you two are actually perfect for each other because when I brought you up last night she literally called you ‘The hot one’ too. So in addition to both being smart and having smartass senses of humor, the attraction is evidently mutual. You want her number?”

“Well duh, I _am_ the hot one. That just means she’s not blind. And no I don’t want her number, but I wouldn’t object to you giving her mine. I’ll let her come to me. Let’s see just how smart this friend of yours is,” I could hear the wicked grin in her voice.

I rolled my eyes. “Fine, but be nice. Your both my friends and I would like to keep it that way,” I scolded.

“Oh, scout's honor, kid. Don’t you worry,” Anya laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was different, with relatively limited Clarke/Lexa interaction but hopefully it was still good! Do you like getting more into the other friends backstories/what's up with them or should I keep it more strictly Clexa? 
> 
> Also I'm trying to figure out how to write Clarke coming out to her parents and having a conversation with her brothers. Considering this has been all in Lexa's POV if I wanted to keep it that way I would have to write it with Lexa being there when Clarke has those conversations. Do you think she should be there or should I break for a chapter and write it from Clarke's POV? Any thoughts and opinions on what y'all would want to read would be appreciated!
> 
> A big thanks, as always, to everyone who has been reading, subscribing, and leaving kudos and comments. Particularly to those who have taken time to comment on multiple chapters! Thanks for all of the support! It's really very much appreciated. :)


	12. Smeared Paint and Fried Rice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big talk(s).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been forever since I posted! I moved to a different state and started a new job in the last couple months and have been trying to get my life together. But anyways, enjoy!

**March 2009**

“Hold still or you’ll mess this part up,” Clarke admonished, though I could hear the smile in her voice.

“I can’t help it,” I laughed, “It tickles!”

I lay on my stomach on Clarke’s bed, my shirt and bra on the floor in front of me. The blonde sat next to me, leaning over so her forearm pressed against my bare skin as she pulled a paintbrush across my back. I turned my head to watch her face, brow furrowed with concentration. I wriggled again underneath her, this time intentionally, to tease the girl.

“Alright, that’s it, wiggle worm,” Clarke laughed, climbing onto me to straddle my ass, effectively pinning me to the bed. A warmth immediately made its way into the pit of my stomach. Clarke was fully clothed and I still had on a pair of athletic shorts, but I was acutely aware of the fact that the girl’s center was pressed firmly over my ass. Although I could only see her out of the corner of my eye, she still seemed concentrated on her work. Although, maybe she was just good at hiding it. Though tempted to grind back into her, just to see if it elicited a reaction, I held still. In all honesty, I was eager to have Clarke using me as her canvas— and not just because it meant we got to spend a prolonged period in close physical contact.

This whole endeavor had started earlier that afternoon when Raven had texted Clarke saying she had made the appointment to get Clarke’s drawing tattooed the day after her 18th birthday. She had asked if Clarke would draw her something on paper for her to bring to the artist in a few weeks. Clarke was uneasy about her work being immortalized on someone’s skin, but I reassured her that she was incredible and that the black bird had been perfect for the girl.

“Plus,” I had added, “it makes it even more meaningful, it being something from her best friend and something that her best friend felt was so fitting for her. That’s really touching. I’m sort of jealous. I would totally get something you drew on me if it was something you felt represented me.” Clarke had apparently thought about the idea before because she immediately asked if I would let her paint it on me. Clarke had insisted I had to wait until it was finished to look and I waited, albeit impatiently. I had tried to sneak a peek a few times but, seeing as whatever she was painting was down the middle of my back, I couldn’t turn my head enough to look at it anyways. What I did know was it was large, covering most of the length of my spine.

My initial arousal at Clarke’s shift in position had dissipated a little as I relaxed into the feel of the brush dancing across my skin, further expanding the design. She moved her right hand to my shoulder, holding her up as her left hand steadily drew the paintbrush along my vertebrae. I rested my head on one arm in front of me, smiling contentedly at the feeling and watching the blonde again out of the corner of my eye.

“You must think I can handle a lot of pain,” I quipped.

“Hmm?” the blonde questioned distractedly as she continued to paint.

“This is no small tattoo, Ambassador. It’s practically covering my whole back. You must think I’m pretty tough,” I pressed.

“You’re the Commander, Lexa. You’re one of the strongest people that I know,” Clarke answered without skipping a beat.

I blushed and Clarke leaned down to kiss my bare shoulder, just as Clarke’s bedroom door swung open with a knock.

“Hey, Clarke, mom and dad want to…” Aden trailed off, raising an eyebrow, as he took in the scene in front of him. Clarke was scrambling to get off of me, as I leaned down to grab my shirt in a vain attempt to cover my upper body. Even after I managed to grab it, I wasn’t sure how to slip on the shirt without revealing myself more or getting wet paint all over everything.

“What, you don’t knock now? What do you want?” Clarke hissed at Aden, clearly panicked but not wanting to attract the attention of the rest of the family by yelling. “And can you please stop staring?”

Aden rolled his eyes but put a hand over them and continued blindly, “Mom and dad want to know if Lexa is staying for dinner tonight and what you guys want from the Chinese place.”

Just then I heard Artie in the hall, “What are you covering your eyes for, nerd?” and the older boy’s face popped around the corner of the doorframe. He took in the scene in one quick moment, snickering and saying “we’re clearly interrupting something. Come on, Aden, we’ll come back later.”

I covered my own face in embarrassment and held back a groan. But Clarke jumped up off the bed, grabbing the two boys by the front of their shirts and pulling them into the room. She shut the door quietly behind them and turned on them, a panicked look in her eyes. In my mind, I didn’t know what reasoning Clarke could possibly have for inviting her brothers into a room where her half-naked girlfriend was trapped on her bed. And it seemed like Clarke wasn’t entirely sure either—the blonde began to pace back and forth, clearly distressed. She would occasionally stop, looking as though she were about to speak, only to change her mind and start pacing again. To their credit, her brothers didn’t try and push her to talk. Aden still had his hand covering his eyes and Artie was tactfully avoiding looking at me, waiting for Clarke to say something.

After what felt like several minutes of silence, the older of the brothers broke the silence. His voice was quiet, soothing. “Hey… you know we both know you guys are together, right? And we’re totally okay with that. More than that, we’re happy for both of you.”

Aden chimed in, “Clarkey, we knew you had a major crush on Lexa the first day you brought her home. And Lexa, we think you’re really cool.” He sightlessly shot a thumbs up and a grin in my general direction and Artie nodded in agreement, still averting his eyes.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, my head halfway in my shirt as I tried to pull it on without attracting too much attention or smearing the wet paint.

“And we haven’t said anything to mom and dad,” Artie added, “but they have asked both of us if we knew anything. We agreed before it wasn’t our place to say anything, though, if you didn’t want them to know. They told me that if I did find out anything they want you to know that they love you. No matter what. And they just want you to be happy.” My head now freed from the shirt, I saw Clarke was biting her lip nervously, looking like she was about to cry. I quickly pulled the shirt the rest of the way down, past the point of caring if it ruined the paint, and got up to join the siblings somewhat uneasily. I wanted to be there for the girl if she wanted me there, but this was a conversation with her brothers. Her family. I didn’t want to overstep.

“Thank you guys, really. I just… it’s all new to me and I didn’t know if it was going to be a big deal. I didn’t want it to be…”

“Why would it be a big deal?” Artie questioned. “So you like a girl instead of a guy. So what? You’re still our bossy, overprotective, big sister. It doesn’t change who you are. Even if you decide you only like girls instead of guys, or you like both, or you just like Lexa. It still doesn’t change that. You’re just you, Clarkey.” He punched her playfully on the arm to emphasize the nickname.

Clarke covered her face, wiping away tears as she nodded. “I know… Thanks you guys,” she choked out.

“Can we give you a hug?” Aden asked, reaching blindly for Clarke.

The girl nodded, sniffling back her tears, and both boys pulled her into a tight squeeze, Aden still with just the one arm.

“You can uncover your eyes now, goof, Lexa’s got her shirt on,” Clarke laughed, tears at the corners of her eyes and not letting go of her younger brothers.

“Oh, good. Can Lexa join the hug, then?” Aden asked, muffled, his face squished into Clarke’s shoulder.

I was taken-aback but Clarke nodded, grabbing me and pulling me into the huddle. I could feel the paint smearing on my back as Clarke and her brothers wrapped their arms around me. I didn’t care. I wanted this moment of acceptance and love tattooed on me forever anyways, just as imperfectly as it had happened.

“Okay, but really,” Artie mumbled, “Mom and dad want to know what you lovebirds want from the Chinese place.”

=======================================CLARKE=======================================

_Thump thump thump_ _thump thump_.

My heart was pounding in my ears. _Were you supposed to be able to hear every beat like that? Is this what a heart attack feels like? It is, isn’t it? No, Clarke. Come on, you know the signs of a heart attack… but what was it the CPR trainer went through?_

I wracked my brain. _“Stayin’ Alive” has the perfect bpm to do compressions_ _for CPR... Whether you’re a brother or whether you’re a mother, you’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive… fuck, now that’s going to be stuck in my head… damn it, Bee Gees, not helpful right now…_

“Clarke, honey?” my mom’s voice made me jump as it shook me from my panicked thoughts. “Your brother asked you to pass the friend rice… are you sure you’re feeling alright? You seem awfully quiet and you’ve barely touched your food…”

“Oh, sorry, here you go. And yeah, I’m fine!” I babbled, quickly moving for the fried rice. The back of my shaking hand knocked my water glass and it teetered, as if in slow motion. Beside me, Lexa’s hand flashed out, catching the glass before it spilled and placing it gently back onto the table. We all froze for a second, staring at the glass.

“Goalie reflexes,” Lexa supplied into the silence, shrugging awkwardly and looking down at her plate. Then Aden leaned clean across the table to take the container of rice from my hand and, in an obvious attempt to distract from the awkwardness, announced, “Well, this has been delicious. Better than usual, don’t you think? We should have Chinese food more often!”

“Right…” my dad snorted, chuckling and raising a skeptical eyebrow.

My parents glanced at each other quickly and I gulped, knowing what was coming. They might drop it for now, but I would get grilled later if I didn’t say something. I was being very obviously weird, and I had never been very good at lying to my parents. Especially my dad. And, really, I _wanted_ to say something to them. As I had left my room to come down to dinner, my fingers laced tightly with the brunette’s, the idea popped into my head. This was going to be when I told my parents that Lexa was my girlfriend. Aden and Artie’s reactions earlier that night had made me surer of what I had already known I wanted to do. They had been supportive, said that I was still me, that this didn’t change how they saw me, that they liked Lexa. And they had already known. From what they had said, it seemed like mom and dad already did too, on some level... but it was one thing for them to know _on some level_ and another thing for me to actually say it. To come out.

I bit my bottom lip in worry and pushed my food around my plate with my fork. Lexa’s hand was suddenly on my knee under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. I glanced up at the girl, and she smiled gently at me, understanding in those emerald eyes. We hadn’t talked about it, but I knew that she knew. And she was here for me, silently telling me things were going to be okay, even after what she’d been through. And Lexa had been through the worst-case scenario as far as coming out to your parents. Yet, here she was. Here for me, here with me. Not minimizing my fears and insecurities or displacing her own onto me. I was incredibly lucky.

I put my fork down and slipped my hand under the table to tangle my fingers with Lexa’s once again. My palm was sweaty but I didn’t care. I gave her hand a firm squeeze and we smiled at each other. Looking into those calm green eyes, I took a deep breath and turned to my parents across the table.

“So, I do have something to tell you guys…” I started, my voice shaking a little.

Artie and Aden froze comically, forkfuls of food halfway to their mouths. They looked from me to Lexa and then at one another significantly.

My dad put down his silverware, a curiously arched eyebrow back in place. Mom smiled knowingly and nodded for me to continue.

_Thump thump thump thump thump._

My heart was caught in my throat but the warmth of Lexa’s hand in mine was reassuring.

“You can tell us, Clarkey. We love you no matter what, okay?” dad soothed, mom nodding her head beside him.

“Umm well… I… kind of…” I went to shrug and pulled Lexa’s hand out from under the table with mine as I gestured. I turned to look at our intertwined fingers, now fully visible to the rest of the table, and finished lamely, “I have a girlfriend… Lexa. Lexa is my girlfriend.”

_Thump thump thump._

“Oh, Clarke, we know. Thank you for trusting us enough to tell us, though, honey. We hope we never made you feel like we weren’t going to be okay with this, but we understand if you were nervous to tell us,” my mom assured. The words were thought out, careful. Not that I thought she was insincere. It was just evident to me that my mom had thought about how she would respond to this. It didn’t bother me that she had thought about it—I certainly had. Despite my relatively lame delivery, I had actually played this conversation out in my head thousands of times. She and I were both that way, rehearsing tough conversations in our heads so that our delivery was practiced when the time came.

I turned to my dad as he spoke. “That’s so great, Clarkey. You’ve been so happy— we’ve all noticed it. And we’re so happy for you that you’re with someone who makes you happy like that. Life’s too short to _not_ be with people who make you feel like that, no matter what other people might say. And if other people _do_ say anything negative, know that you’ve got a family who always, _always_ has your back. And an overprotective dad who will kick some butt for his little girl.”

I laughed, letting out a long exhale. I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath. My heart was still beating like crazy, but I felt an immense weight lift off my shoulders. _How long had I been carrying that?_ Happy tears welled in my eyes and I looked quickly at Lexa. Her smile was reserved but her eyes were watery too. I knew this was so beyond the realm of what she was used to with family—this much acceptance and love. But I was grateful she was here for me and here for this.

“Thank you, guys. Really… I…” my throat was too tight to speak.

My parents got up from their chairs, coming over to me and pulling me up into a tight hug. I felt Lexa loosen her grip on my hand, but I held fast. I didn’t want to let her go, even as both my parents had their arms wrapped around me. They broke the embrace and my dad turned to Lexa.

“The same goes for you too, Lexa,” my father assured.

The brunette looked quizzically up at him. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, clarifying, “we have your back too, okay?”

Lexa looked close to tears as she nodded, smiling weakly up at my dad. I knew this must mean a lot to her—hearing those words from a parent—even if it wasn’t her own. I hadn’t told my parents about Lexa’s past. Not the whole story, at least. But they knew Lexa’s mom had died and that her father was never around. They asked enough questions to put the pieces together, but I’m not sure my dad knew just how much what he said would mean to the girl. But I did. 

I pulled her up to stand next to me, wrapping my arm around her waist in a side hug and squeezing her gently to me.

“Thank you,” she articulated, “you don’t know how much that means to me, to have your trust and your support.”

“Yeah, well, don’t screw it up,” Artie chimed in from the table behind us, smirking, “My dad also said he would ‘kick some butt for his little girl’, was it? So you better be nice to Clarke, or get ready for the wrath of dad.”

The brunette next to me chuckled nervously, trying to put a little distance between us but I wouldn’t give in. I kept my grip on her waist, pulling her even tighter to me.

“His bark is much worse than his bite,” mom joked, slapping my dad playfully on the arm. “And speaking of which, you two have been unusually quiet through this,” she added, rounding on my brothers. They glanced at each other quickly and then looked at me, pleadingly.

“I told them earlier tonight,” I quickly interjected, before they got told off for keeping my secret.

“We’re not blind! We knew before toni—ouch!” Aden was cut off as Artie kicked him pointedly under the table.

“He means we had our suspicions. Just like you guys did,” Artie interrupted, giving Aden a significant look.

“Yes… suspicions…” Aden nodded, trying to sell it as he cottoned on, “that’s right.”

Mom looked rightfully skeptical, but dad just chuckled.

Lexa leaned into me slightly, chuckling too, and my heart swelled. “Hey, I love you all. Thank you, really,” I burst, grinning so wide it hurt my cheeks and feeling lighter than I had in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the patience on this one, I know it was a long wait. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I was sitting on it half-written for about 2 months and I only feel "meh" about how I wrote it, but didn't want to sit on it any longer. But please let me know your thoughts! I don't know if I really can capture Clarke that well, but I gave it my best. Let me know if you'd like more from her perspective in the future or not so much. I really appreciate all of the feedback and I didn't ever expect the positive response I have received on this, so thank you all so much.  
> Let me know if you have any suggestions for where this goes next. I do have a few ideas rattling around up there but I'd love to hear what you want to read.


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